Death Takes a Holiday
by PixelByPixel
Summary: Lucifer is visited by his sister Azrael, who believes that she has been sent there as punishment for losing her blade. Set before the season 2 fall finale. Most of it is K plus, though I have it rated T overall for some innuendo. The whole cast shows up at some point.
1. Chapter 1

A clap of thunder shattered the air as Lucifer stepped out of his bedroom, straightening his jacket. He came to a halt, seeing the small figure next to the couch. She was taller than Beatrice, he noted, and swathed in a damp pink raincoat. "I hate it when that happens," the little girl observed. "Never sure if it means something, or if it's just coincidence." Seeing Lucifer's bewildered stare, she clarified, "The thunder. I'm not a harbinger... at least, I don't think I am."

"The club's downstairs," Lucifer informed her, still looking puzzled. "And not open yet. And I don't think a fake ID exists that would get you served."

The child pushed back her hood, tossing her shoulder-length blond hair out of her eyes. "Hi, Lucifer," she responded, letting her backpack slide to the ground. "It's Rae."

"Rae? Azrael?" Lucifer stared at his little sister, not entirely comprehending. "It's been a while. What in the world are you doing in that body?"

"That's complicated," Azrael replied, not quite meeting his gaze. "I could really use a drink."

"Milk?" Lucifer suggested flippantly.

Azrael sighed and unzipped the raincoat, easing it from her shoulders and draping it carefully over the back of a chair. "Something stronger, if you wouldn't mind?"

Lucifer moved to pour a scotch, and one for himself as well. "What are you wearing?" he asked, his lips curving despite himself. "

Not my choice," Azrael replied tersely, moving to take the drink and dismissing the long-sleeved My Little Pony shirt with a wry headshake. "Michael thinks he's funny. You know… pale horse. Thanks," she added, knocking back a swallow of her drink and closing her eyes for a moment.

"Azrael," Lucifer pressed, a hint of impatience in his voice. "Why are you here?"

"Sorry. I… this is hard, okay?" Azrael sank into one of the chairs, then looked up, finally meeting Lucifer's gaze. "Father sent me."

"Dear old Dad recruited you to try and talk me back to Hell? Well, little sister, looking cute won't do it. I don't even like children… and you could have at least tried pigtails."

"Ew. No. I…" Azrael closed her eyes for a moment, inhaled a deep breath, then met her brother's gaze, her own dark eyes damp. "Lucifer, Uriel's dead. Gone. Permanently. And it's my fault. So Father sent me—"

"Wait, what?" Lucifer interrupted. "Your fault? How do you figure?"

Azrael took another, more cautious drink, though her attention seemed more on formulating her words than on the drink. "Uri took my blade. I—in my pride, I wasn't paying attention, assumed nobody would—and he brought it here, and it was turned against him. Apparently took out some humans as well."

"Who told you this? Dad?" "No. Michael. Our father… isn't exactly speaking to me, hasn't for a while." Azrael took a deep breath. "So I'm sent here, in this ridiculous body, to atone." Brow furrowing, she added, "You don't seem surprised about Uriel, brother."

Lucifer moved to his own chair. He sat, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees. "No," he agreed softly. "I'm not." He took a deep breath. "Rae, he came here to force me to send Mum back to Hell, and threatened someone I… a good friend. I killed him. I didn't have a choice. He would have killed Mum."

Azrael stared at her brother, brown eyes wide. "Mum—Mom's not in Hell? And you killed our brother? With my blade?" The little girl slumped against the back of her chair. "And _I'm_ the one being punished for his death. Typical."

"Rae, where have you been?" Lucifer inquired, with a hint of exasperation. Mum escaped from Hell some time ago."

Azrael gestured to herself, after a flicker of hesitation. "Angel of Death, remember? I've been busy. But now Remiel's in charge in Hell and I have no idea who's doing my job, but it certainly isn't me."

"Wait, go back," Lucifer suggested, holding up one hand as his sister's earlier words registered. "Dear old Dad sent you to me to be punished?"

"For something that, it seems, isn't entirely my fault," Azrael confirmed, looking just a little exasperated, but not really surprised.

Lucifer sat up. "And I see no need to punish you for it," he agreed.

Azrael shook her head. "Michael said I can't have my job back-or my body-until I have atoned sufficiently for my pride," she replied. "Lucifer… please."

"So you want to stay here?" Lucifer sighed. "Fine. You can use Maze's old room."

Azrael's eyes widened. "Mazikeen is here?" She paused, then exhaled a short, humorless laugh. "Well, where else would she be."

"Whereas I haven't seen you in years," Lucifer replied. "Not since before I left Hell."

Azrael nodded, taking a moment to glance around the room before she answered. "You know how it is. One day and then another, and you turn around and it's been years. The job..."

"Sis, maybe it's not so bad that you're getting a break," Lucifer suggested. "When's the last time you had a real vacation?"

Shaking her head, Azrael inquired, "What, Death Takes a Holiday? I honestly don't remember. Did see the Brad Pitt version, though. Why does everyone assume I'm a man?" Her jaw tightened, and she was silent for a moment. "It's hard, but I'm good at it, you know? And Dad just... took it away. All of it. I walked through the humans on my way here. I couldn't tell when they're going to die, where they'll go when they do. All the skills to do my job, they're gone."

Expression gone serious, Lucifer asked, "Everything? Rae, you'll have to be careful. If you can be hurt..."

Brows furrowed, Azrael admitted, "I'm not sure if I can be or not. Got a knife?"

"You're not serious." When Azrael didn't reply, Lucifer shook his head. "Azrael, don't be stupid."

"But she's so good at it," Mazikeen called as she moved from the penthouse entrance to her former room. "Just looking for something; I think I forgot it here. Your sister finally show her face, Lucifer?"

Lucifer made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a cough. "In a manner of speaking. Come see, Maze!"

"Lucifer!" Azrael hissed. "Could you please not?"

But it was too late. Maze sauntered into the room, tucking something into her pocket. "Well, well, well," she drawled. She started to continue, but then caught sight of Azrael. While Maze did not actually fall over, she did have to lean against the wall as she laughed. For several moments, she couldn't speak, but eventually she straightened, wiping at one eye. "Oh, that felt good. What stupid thing do you want to do now, Teen Angel?"

"Oh, I don't think she looks old enough to be a teenager, do you, Maze?" Lucifer studied his sister critically. "Stand up, Rae, let's see how tall you are."

"No," Azrael responded wearily. "Michael put some paperwork in my bag. I'm sure there's a birth certificate."

Maze grinned maliciously at Lucifer. "She's talking back already. Better set some ground rules."

"Oh, definitely," Lucifer agreed absently, much to Azrael's chagrin. "Maze, you've got a knife handy, yes? No-not one of those," he amended,adding to Azrael, "Best to find out now, don't you think? And Maze does know her knives."

Mazikeen replaced the wickedly curved demon blade and slipped a thin dagger from her boot. "Who am I stabbing today?"

Warily, Azrael lifted one hand. "I'd really rather do it my-"

"You think I'm letting you touch my knife? Think again." In an instant, Maze was at Azrael's side, smirking as the girl shrank against the back of her seat.

Watching shrewdly, Lucifer chided, "We just want to see if she'll bleed, Maze. No need to scare her."

Her dark gaze not leaving Azrael's, Maze asked softly, "You scared of me, Tiny Death?"

When Azrael didn't speak, Maze extended a hand. Hesitantly, Azrael placed her own hand in Maze's, palm up. All three watched as the demon opened the thinnest of cuts on Azrael's finger, and then as several drops of blood welled from the cut. Azrael pulled her hand from Maze's grip to study the blood, eyes wide.

After cleaning her blade, Maze returned it to its spot. "Well, my work here is done. Lucifer, you'll explain all this?"

"Yes, of course, Maze. Later." Lucifer's gaze remained on his sister, his expression thoughtful.

Maze shook her head and turned to leave, casting a final look over her shoulder at Azrael as she did.

"Where is my blade?" Azrael asked quietly, still not looking up from her hand.

"Somewhere safe."

Looking up, Azrael spoke a fraction more loudly. "Where is it, Lucifer? I can bring it back to the Silver City, and Dad can... undo this."

"He wouldn't." Lucifer moved to crouch before his sister's chair. "Rae, even if I told you where it is, you can't touch it anymore. You know what it does to mortals."

Azrael flinched, as if she had been struck, then closed her eyes for a moment. "Yes." She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. "Luci, I know you're not one for hugging, but-"

Before she finished speaking, Lucifer gathered Azrael into his arms. "Shh," he soothed. "It'll be okay, little sis."

After a long moment, Azrael pulled away, wiping quickly at her eyes. "How, exactly?" "I haven't quite worked that bit out," Lucifer admitted. "But it will."


	2. Chapter 2

Azrael sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed that was now hers, frowning thoughtfully at the papers she held. "Come in," she called, hearing the knock at her door.

"Rae, I was just going to-my, you look like death warmed over," Lucifer commented, taking in her pallor.

Azrael looked up with a wry grimace for her brother's particular choice of phrase. "Gee, thanks. So I've learned something. When the humans drank too much and called out for me, said they wanted to die, I should have been a little more sympathetic," she observed. "This body couldn't take the alcohol last night. _Don't_ go into the en-suite," she added, with emphasis. "I'll take care of it, but I wasn't up to it earlier. I am feeling better than I was, though."

Letting his amusement escape for just a moment, Lucifer observed, "Never thought I'd see the day you couldn't hold your liquor. What's all this?" he added, with a nod towards the papers.

"Ah, Michael's paperwork. Immunization records—and I hope that I'm actually immune to all this stuff considering that I bleed and all, now. Some sort of form giving you legal guardianship—please stop smiling like that, I'm not actually a child." Shaking her head ruefully, she added, "It looks official enough. And my birth certificate. Apparently I was born and raised in Silver City, Iowa. Michael showed my the place on the way here, so I can actually say I'm from there, technically. It's pretty tiny." Tipping her head to look up at Lucifer, Azrael inquired, "Do you know Charlotte Richards?"

Lucifer stepped forward and leaned in to look at the paper. "Did Michael put her on the birth certificate?" Studying the paper, he glanced down at his sister. "He put you down as Azrael Morningstar?"

Posture shrinking just a bit, Azrael nodded. "That was Michael. I wouldn't-I mean, I know _you're_ the Morning Star..."

"I'm not upset with you, Rae," Lucifer replied lightly. "He probably just did it to simply matters."

"Good. Yes. That's what I thought." Azrael straightened, adding, "Not that I thought you were going to do anything just now, but the knowledge that I can't just disappear and fly away if you go all red-eyes on me... well, it's a little unsettling."

"When have I ever-?" Lucifer began, with an umbrage that was perhaps not entirely unfeigned.

Azrael didn't say anything. She didn't have to; her skeptical expression did it for her. Finally, she offered, "You do seem much more relaxed than the last time I saw you. Living among the mortals seems to agree with you."

With a laugh, Lucifer observed, "You're making it sound like one of those nature shows. _Living among the mortals._ "

"Depends on the show," Azrael said pertly. "And some details I just don't need to know. Now, if we could focus, please? Charlotte Richards? Is she another one of Michael's attempts at humor?"

Lucifer deadpanned, "No, she's disturbingly hot dead lawyer whose body Mum is currently inhabiting."

Azrael sighed,her brows lifting briefly. "It's never simple with this family."

"No," Lucifer agreed.

"She's really that hot?" Azrael actually smiled at Lucifer's disturbed expression. "Whereas I," she mused, looking down at herself, "have no breasts and about as many curves as a two-by-four. That's so unfair."

Lucifer took another glance at the papers. "I wasn't going to say anything, though I'm sure you're perfectly normal for your age, which appears to be... eleven."

"I can do math, brother," Azrael commented mildly.

"I just wasn't sure if you knew what year it was. You do tend to lose track. Oh-I was going to go down to the station; want to come with?" At Azrael's blank look, he clarified, "I'm working with the LAPD."

"Huh. That's something I wouldn't have expected, you working for law and order. Won't I be in the way?"

"Of course not," Lucifer replied. "And I'm just punishing bad guys, same as I have been. This just involves less brimstone. Get your shoes, let's go." When Azrael didn't move, Lucifer prompted, "Shoes, Rae. You did say you're not actually a child, yes? You _can_ put them on all by yourself?"

"They light up."

"I beg your pardon?"

"My shoes. They light up." To illustrate, Azrael reached down to grab the shoes in question, clapping the heels against each other and demonstrating the flashing red lights along the heels. "They're ridiculous. Another gift from Michael. And most eleven year-olds can manage shoes, brother."

Lucifer considered the shoes, brows lifting. "People actually wear shoes like that? Never mind; we'll pick you up some new ones on the way."

Expression brightening, Azrael put on her shoes. "Okay, let's go."

"One thing," Lucifer inquired as he ushered her to the door. "Am I supposed to hold your hand when we cross streets?"

With an eyeroll worthy of an actual eleven year-old, Azrael shook her head as she exited. "No, Lucifer."


	3. Chapter 3

"Ella!" Dan caught the tech's attention and waved her over. "Check this out. What do you think?"

Ella considered the scene: Lucifer seated at Chloe's desk, speaking with the girl who stood on his right. "Chloe's going to kill Lucifer if he doesn't get his feet off her desk?"

"No, the kid. Who do you think she is?"

Ella studied the girl, then turned to Dan, "What, you think Lucifer's past finally caught up with him?"

Dan couldn't hide a smile. "Well, it wouldn't be a surprise, wouldn't it?"

Ella grinned as the girl nudged at Lucifer's foot with one hand, and he sat up, sliding his feet to the ground. "Well, they have similar builds, if you take into account that one is a female child and one is an adult male. Hair's different, obviously, but there's something very similar about their eyes. I think..."

"Yes?" Dan asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

"I have no idea. I can't just do DNA tests from across the room. Science doesn't work that way." Ella laughed, shaking her head as she turned to join the pair. "Let's just ask, Dan."

Lifting his phone, Dan said, "I have to go, but let me know what you find out."

"We'll see," Ella teased as Dan left. "Hey," she greeted the pair. "Chloe had to check something out."

"No worries, I've found plenty to amuse myself in her absence," Lucifer replied cheerily. "Ella, I'd like you to meet my little sister Azrael. Rae, this is Ella Lopez. She deals with all the science-y bits."

Ella nodded, a look of understanding lighting her eyes. "Sister, that would have been my second guess. Nice to meet you, Azrael. You here visiting?"

With a nod of her own and a brief smile, Azrael replied, "I usually go by Rae. What was your first guess, if sister was second?"

"Oh, Dan thought you might be Lucifer's daughter," Ella explained, with an amused glance at Lucifer.

After a moment of surprise, Lucifer chuckled and shook his head. "Could have fun with that later. But, no. No, devil-spawn for me. Too Rosemary's Baby."

"Always in character," Ella observed, adding to Azrael, "Did you know that your brother's the Devil?"

Azrael shot Lucifer an appalled look, to which he replied with a placating, "Well I'm not going to lie, Rae."

"There's not lying," Azrael muttered, "and then there's telling the world." Pulling on a smile for Ella, she added, "He hasn't tormented me lately, so whatever he is can't be all bad."

Lucifer nudged his sister, saying, with an amused huff, "Thank you, sis, for that ringing endorsement."

With a warm smile to Lucifer that drew a speculative look from Azrael, Ella agreed, "I'm right there with you, though-not all bad." Turning back to Azrael, Ella queried, "So which doctor is your favorite?"

Azrael darted a puzzled look at her brother, who responded with a faint shrug, then replied, "John Snow."

"From Game of Thrones?" Ella replied, with a puzzled look of her own.

Azrael shook her head. "From nineteenth century England. I'm sorry, I don't think I was answering the question you were asking."

With a gesture towards Azrael's shirt, Ella observed, "You're wearing a Weeping Angel shirt. I assumed that you're a Doctor Who fan, but it sounds like not."

The girl peered down at her shirt, which did, in fact, depict a blue line drawing of an angel covering its eyes. "Lucifer!"

"Yes, what?" Lucifer looked up from his phone, tapping the power button to blank the screen.

"My shirt has a weeping angel on it, whatever that is. A. Weeping. Angel." Azrael took a deep breath, then observed quietly, "I need clothing without ponies or flashing lights or angels or... whatever else Michael put in that stupid pink bag." A glance to Ella. "No offense."

Ella smiled, shaking her head. "Hey, none taken. I'm more of a Star Trek fan anyway. Also not a fan of pink, if that helps at all."

Lucifer gave Azrael's shirt a puzzled look, then nodded. "So, shopping expedition later," he agreed expansively, getting to his feet and tucking away his phone. "But for now, Ella, you and I are needed at a crime scene. The detective just texted-something came up. Afraid I can't give you a ride, but we can walk out to the garage."

Ella nodded after checking her own phone, but then cast a look at Azrael. "You can't take her to a crime scene, Lucifer. She's just a little girl."

"It's all right," Lucifer said airily. "I've got something else in mind for her. Come along, ladies."

"Depending on what he has in mind," Azrael observed to Ella as she followed her brother, "I may be rescinding my earlier 'not all bad' statement."

Trailing behind, Ella observed, "I'm sure that whatever it is will be better for you than what we'll be doing. "You're a little young for a homicide investigation."

"Right, we don't want her exposed to all that mayhem and death-Rae, don't poke me!"

Azrael ignored her brother, instead asking Ella, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Considering your brother, maybe I should say no," Ella teased. She grinned at Lucifer, but then added to Azrael, "Go ahead."

With a gesture toward Ella's neck, Azrael queried, "Do you go to church, or is that just decorative?"

Smiling, Ella responded, "I do. Even got your brother to go with me once."

Azrael stopped short, staring first at Lucifer and then at Ella.

"Stop looking at me like that. I owed her a favor."

"Oh. That makes sense, then." Joining the others as they approached the cars, Azrael added to Ella, "I'm looking for a church. I'd-"

"Rae." Lucifer pulled Azrael a few steps away and bent down to her level, his back to Ella. "You know that won't help," he said gently.

Azrael met her brother's gaze. "Maybe it will," she replied quietly. "I've been talking to him since I got here, and he still won't answer. Maybe if I go to his house, where they gather in his name, maybe he'll hear me then."

Lucifer inhaled as if to argue further, then considered his sister, noting the stubborn set to her jaw, and straightened, sighing. "Fine. But don't expect me to go."

"I'd be happy to to take her with me," Ella offered.

"Thanks," Azrael replied, with a smile.

Turning towards her own cat, Ella offered, "I'll work it out with your brother. Lucifer-see you there?"

"Of course, Ella. This won't take long," Lucifer replied, moving to get into his own car. "I've already got it all arranged."

"Why," mused Azrael as she got into the car, "do I feel like there should be ominous piano music in the background?"

"Relax, you'll be fine," Lucifer replied breezily as he peeled out of the garage. "I'll explain on the way."

* * *

 _Author's note: Thanks for the positive feedback! This is my first fanfic and I was nervous about putting it out there, so I appreciate the response._


	4. Chapter 4

Dr. Linda Martin frowned at her phone as she strode down the hall to her office, holding down the power button again. She peered hopefully at the screen as she opened her door. Nothing, even though she had definitely charged it. And it wasn't time for an upgrade yet. Maybe she would ask Maze to go with her to the Verizon store. Smiling at the thought of the probable result, she closed her door and crossed to sit at her desk, putting both her purse and her now-useless phone in a drawer.

Moving to sit, she caught sight of the figure on her couch and gasped, putting one hand to chest. It was a little girl, mostly seated but slumped to one side and... asleep, yes, her chest was rising and falling. Thank goodness. Finding a strange child asleep on her couch was bad enough, but there were certainly worse alternatives.

"What in the world..." Linda began, though quietly. Then, with a hint of exasperation, "That door was locked." Raising her voice, she called, "Excuse me?"

The child startled awake, looking utterly confused. After a moment, she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "I'm so sorry. I had too much to drink last night-had kind of a rough night. Looks like it's catching up with me."

Linda's eyebrows lifted just a bit, though she maintained a professional expression. "How did you get in here? The door was locked when I came in."

Shoulders lifting in a small shrug, the girl replied, "My brother opened the door. He's good with locks." Looking a little more alert, she added, "I'm Rae. Sorry, really. This is a really comfortable couch." She sat up a little straighter, then frowned at Linda's apparent confusion. "He did set this up, right? He said he texted you..."

"Ah. Well, that explains things. My phone won't turn on, so I missed the message," Linda explained. "Who is your brother?"

"Lucifer," Rae responded. When Linda didn't reply, instead giving her a long look, Azrael added tentatively, "Morningstar?"

Linda chuckled, "Because I have so many Lucifers in my client list. Sorry, I didn't think Lucifer had a sister that was so much younger. Tell me your name again?"

"Rae." After a pause, the girl added, "He said he... showed you. I know, I know, he wouldn't lie, especially about something like that, but did he really?" Considering Linda for a moment, she added, "Oh! Sorry, it's Azrael, really. Rae for short."

Linda stood and crossed to the chair closer to the couch, fascinated. "The Angel of Death is a little girl?"

"Technically, no." Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand. "So that's a 'yes' on the 'did he show you' question." She sighed and added, her tone resigned, "We're really not supposed to do that. Not that 'not supposed to' ever stops Lucifer."

"Not supposed to do what?" Linda inquired. "Tell who you are?"

"Provide evidence of celestial beings. It looks like Luci's telling everyone," she added, with a hint of fond exasperation, "but at least they don't believe him." Azrael regarded Linda for a moment, then observed, "You're taking it well."

After mentally filing away Lucifer's nickname, Linda replied, with a brief smile, "Well, now I am. It took some time. Will there be consequences for Lucifer, that he showed me?" she added, with some concern.

Casting a brief, wary glance upwards, Azrael observed, "Nobody's managed to get him back to Hell so far, and he's done worse than reveal himself to a mortal. If he hasn't been struck by lightning or something, he's probably fine."

"Is that why you're here?" Linda asked. "To take him back to Hell?"

Azrael laughed, a short, humorless sound. "Me? No. Even if I wanted to, there's no chance I could."

"Well, you _are_ the Angel of Death. Doesn't that come with... "

Azrael's brows lifted. "What, a certain set of skills? Yes, but I'm, ah, on hiatus just now. No skills." She paused, "Well, not no skills. Just not the death-related ones. Or the angel-related ones. Which is, admittedly, most of them."

Settling back in her chair, Linda said, "So when you said that technically the Angel of Death isn't a little girl, that's because you're not the Angel of Death? You quit, like Lucifer?"

"No," Azrael replied crisply. "I did not quit. I'll take my job back any time now, please and thank you. Also, not a little girl. I'm, well, I'm not really sure how old I am, but certainly not eleven."

"All right," Linda replied, tone conciliatory. "So Lucifer brought you here because he thinks you're having a hard time with all the changes in your life?"

Hugging one knee to her chest Azrael replied candidly, "I honestly don't know what he was thinking. He did that thing where he talks and everything makes perfect sense at the time, and then he leaves and you wonder what hit you. He said you help him, though. And he trusts you, obviously."

"Okay," Linda replied thoughtfully, "so what do you think is the most difficult aspect of all this?"

Azrael's brows furrowed in a small frown. "I just... complain to you?"

"It's a start," Linda replied, with a chuckle.

Resting her chin on her knee, Azrael replied slowly, "The most difficult... I don't know. Not Michael's ridiculous wardrobe, though it's certainly annoying. I hate not knowing who is doing my job now."

"Your job is important to you?" Linda prompted, when Azrael didn't continue.

"Yes." Azrael was quiet for a moment. "I mean, it's me. I told you my name, and you knew: Angel of Death. Except Dad took it away. Michael said it was temporary, to teach me humility, and I'm stuck in this mortal body. No offense," she added, with a faint smile.

Linda inclined her head, and Azrael continued, still speaking slowly, seeking her words. "In my family, especially if you're not one of the favored offspring, you toe the line. Head down, do your job. Only now? No job." She takes a slow breath. "The reason for all this-" She gestures to herself. "-is that I made a mistake. Lost something important, through my pride. I tried to find it, but..." She shook her head. "My brother Uri had taken it, and he died because of it."

After giving Azrael a moment to continue, Linda asked, expression thoughtful, "Were you close to your brother?"

"To Uri? No. Nobody was close to Uri. We interacted, but close? No. I don't think he wanted... I don't know. When we were small, he wanted to play with the older ones, never me. Meni would let me tag along sometimes, but never Uri."

"Meni?" Linda queried. "Amenadiel?"

Azrael smiled faintly. "He hates when I call him that." She drew herself up, releasing her leg, and said, in a passable impression of Amenadiel, "Don't call me that, Rae. There's only one of me, not many." The smile faded from her face as realization dawned. "You know my brother Amenadiel," she said quietly. "He's here, in this city?"

After a moment of hesitation, Linda nodded. "He is."

"And Lucifer knows this?" Azrael demanded, her voice rising in her agitation.

"Yes. Azrael-Rae, what is it?" Linda asked.

Azrael sprang from her seat on the couch, with an air of expectancy. After a moment, when nothing happened, she deflated. When she spoke, her words were quiet, tone brittle. "Of your kindness, Doctor, would you please give me a ride back to Lux? I must speak with my brother."

Linda wasn't afraid to to say no, not quite, but she wasn't sure she wanted to find out what would happen if she refused. She took her purse from the drawer and saw that her phone was on. Rattling off a quick text to Lucifer, she moved to follow Azrael, who was already out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: We've got some chronological overlap between this chapter and the previous one, and there will be overlap with the next as well. I hope you're enjoying this, and thanks so much for the reviews/favs/etc.**

* * *

Lucifer smoothed his suit in a short, sharp tug as he strode up to the building where the detective's GPS directions had sent him. Stepping through the automatic doors, he approached the woman standing behind the long, waist-high desk. "I'm sorry, sir, we're not open to the public," she told him.

"Yes, I'm not here for books," Lucifer replied sunnily. "I'm looking for the dead body."

The woman, despite her overall shaken demeanor, warmed perceptibly when Lucifer drew closer, lifting one hand to fuss with her short, dark hair. "It's that way," she replied, gesturing toward the center of the building. "Then turn left. Look for the true crime books. I could show you," she added eagerly, stepping from behind the desk, eyes alight.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm sure I can find it. Maybe later, though."

Ella rounded a bookshelf as Lucifer approached, pulling off a pair of latex gloves as she did so. "So, your sister," she said. "She's cute."

Lucifer grinned at Ella. "Oh, do tell her that. But let me watch."

Looking amused, Ella asked, "She's gone all tween on you? Too cool for school? I've got some nieces like that."

"She takes herself too seriously," Lucifer agreed. "Doesn't help that she's not happy with her body."

"Well, self-image can be hard for a girl, especially with social media," Ella agreed. After a moment, she added, "Look, if you don't want me taking her to church with me, just say the word, okay?"

As they approached the crime scene, Lucifer shook his head, "I don't see any harm in it. I just don't think she's going to find what she's looking for." Turning to ogle some departing employees, he mused, "Now, why have I never come to the library before now?"

"Well, I've never seen you with a book in your hand," Chloe replied crisply, looking over from a conversation with one last library employee.

"Come, come, detective, there's far more to do at a library than read." Turning his gaze on Chloe, Lucifer added, "And you know you're always welcome between my covers."

Chloe shook her head at Lucifer. "You're incorrigible. Could you please focus?"

Stepping to the end of the true crime shelf, Lucifer considered the body there, a young man with a pair of scissors embedded in one eye. "My," he commented, turning. "Must have been an eye-opening experience."

Chloe pressed her lips together, perhaps in a silent plea for her own patience. "I have a few more questions," she said to the woman with whom she'd been speaking. "But can you give me a minute?" Stepping over to Lucifer, she informed him, "This is Victor Sanchez. He's worked here for three years, well-liked among library staff and patrons. Maybe you could-"

Lucifer's phone chimed and he pulled that from his pocket to peer at the incoming text. "Hold on," he said lightly, stepping a few paces away from the group as his phone chimed again. Chloe stared after him in disbelief for a moment, then turned to converse with Ella.

Lucifer tapped his phone then held it to his ear. After a long moment of silence, he said placatingly, "My darling, we've been through this. You know it's just not possible." After another moment, he said, "Not just now, but-all right, yes. I'll see. Of course." Lucifer ended the call and frowned. He stepped farther from the group around the body, incidentally ending up near a sign asking library users to take their cell phone conversations outside. He dialed another number and said quietly, "I need you to do something you're not going to like."

* * *

"Hey," Chloe called after Lucifer, as the LAPD crew started to clear out. "I tried to call you last night, but you didn't pick up."

Lucifer turned, with a smile. "Pining for my company, were you?"

"Bet he was busy with that new girl in his life," Ella quipped as she passed. "The cute one. You missed it, Chloe; Lucifer even brought her by the precinct." Turning to leave, she added, "I'll text you about Sunday, Luce."

Lucifer, with a wave of acknowledgement, called after Ella, "Well, she's not exactly a new girl, you know. But we were busy, yes, up til the wee smalls." As Chloe rounded on him, he added defensively, "What?"

"You brought one of your Britneys to the precinct? Lucifer, that is so-"

"She's hardly a Britney, Detective," Lucifer replied, with some heat. "Point of fact, I brought her there in the hopes that you two could meet."

Chloe raised her brows, expression skeptical. "Meet me? Why on Earth would you want that?"

"Well, because she matters to me," Lucifer began. "And you're my partner. Look, just come by tonight, would you? I'll even provide dinner, out of the kindness of my heart."

Chloe hesitated, and Lucifer smiled winningly. "No promises," she said finally.

"That's the spirit," Lucifer said, taking out his phone as he turned to leave. "Cheers, then."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note: The next chapter will be lighter. I'd love feedback!**

* * *

Azrael sat cross-legged on one of the chairs in the penthouse at LUX. "Really, you can go," she repeated. When Linda hesitated, Azrael added, with taut patience, "I'm not actually a child, you know. I can be left unsupervised." Azrael turned back to the window. When she heard the elevator, she added, assuming that Linda was leaving, "Thank you."

"Nice to see you using your manners, little sister. Thanks, Linda."

"Amenadiel!" Azrael lept to her feet and rushed to her oldest brother's side, watching as he ushered Linda out of the penthouse. Her expression hopeful, she asked eagerly, "Brother, do you-" Registering Amenadiel's sober mien, she faltered. "You've changed your look," she said tentatively. "I like it. Casual. The robes were classic, but I'll bet the dry cleaning bills were a bitch," she ventured.

Amenadiel's lips curved, just a little. " _I've_ changed _my_ look?"

"Well, I certainly didn't do this to myself," Azrael replied, though her tone was meek. "Did-how much did Lucifer tell you?"

"Everything." Amenadiel's smile faded.

Azrael moved back to her seat, not taking her eyes from her brother. He followed her, though he remained standing.

Azrael fidgeted with her shirt, smoothing the Weeping Angel design. "What did Father say about Uriel?" she asked softly. "Michael wouldn't tell me." When Amenadiel hesitated, she pressed, "Please."

"We haven't discussed it," Amenadiel replied tersely.

Azrael took a deep breath. "I just... Amenadiel, I don't understand why my blade was left here. It's dangerous, clearly. You had to have known I'd be looking for it. I mean... Azrael's blade. That's its name. It belongs with me. I know Lucifer couldn't have returned it, but you..."

"So I should have cleaned up your mess, Azrael?" Amenadiel strode to stand by the window, crossing behind Azrael's chair. She twisted to watch him.

"No," she said quickly. She exhaled a near-silent sigh, getting to her feet and moving to stand next to her brother. "Amenadiel, I'm not sure how long I can take being like this. Back in that doctor's office, I tried to fly. I forgot that I couldn't, and it hurt."

Amenadiel turned his gaze on his sister, eyebrows lifting. "Flying inside?" He did not smile.

"Before I could have passed through the walls," Azrael replied, with a small shrug. "Nothing stops the Angel of Death, you know that." Tipping her head back to look up at her brother, she asked, a gleam of hope in her eyes, "Amenadiel, do you know where my blade is now? Could you bring it back to the Silver City and give it to Father? Maybe if he had it, he would reconsider, reinstate me." Amenadiel turned away from her, and she continued her plea, a quiver to her voice. "This body is so fragile. Did you know that humans can be cut by _paper_? Meni, please!"

Amenadiel rounded on his sister, and she flinched away. "Don't call me that!"

"I'm sorry." Azrael edged away from Amenadiel, eyes gone large. When he turned away again, she ventured quietly, "Will you help me, brother?"

Amenadiel was quiet for a long moment, "I can't," he replied, pain evident in his voice.

Azrael hugged her arms against her chest. "Father forbade you?" she suggested.

"No."

"Then why?" It was a cry of protest. "Are you angry about Uriel? Amenadiel, I swear, if I had known what would happen, I would never have-"

"I've fallen," Amenadiel interrupted, the admission coming hard.

Azrael recoiled, expression stunned. "You what? But, Amenadiel, _how_? You were always one of the strongest of us, Father's warrior. No." Azrael contradicted herself, turning away, taking a moment to collect herself. "Don't tell me, brother. I don't need to know how. We all have our sins." Stepping back to her brother's side, she rested a hand tentatively on his arm. "Who else knows about this?"

"Lucifer," Amenadiel replied, turning to face his sister. "Mom. Maze."

After a brief wince at the mention of her mother's awareness of the situation, Azrael stared at Amenadiel, clearly shocked. "Mazikeen? Amenadiel, why would you reveal such weakness to that Hellspawn? I saw her when I brought damned souls to Hell. She's among the worst of a very bad-"

Azrael's words were cut off as Amenadiel slammed her into the wall behind her, ignoring her cry of pain and bracing her hard against the wall, his hand high on her chest. "Watch how you speak," he warned, voice low and dangerous.

"You're defending her?" Azrael demanded,incredulous. "Do you know what she did to our mother?" Looking hard at her brother, she shook her head at something she saw in his expression. "You've got to be kidding me. You've slept with her, haven't you?"

Amenadiel eased his pressure slightly, though not enough to allow Azrael to move. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

"No," Azrael agreed, a note of bitterness to her voice. "You don't. Nor does Father, for that matter."

Amenadiel released his sister, stepping back, though she remained flush to the wall. "Azrael, you should know by now not to take everything Father does at face value."

Letting her head fall back against the wall, Azrael closed her eyes. "I know, Amenadiel," she said quietly. "I'm sorry Lucifer dragged you out here. And, for what it's worth, I'm sorry you fell." When she heard the elevator doors, she opened her eyes to watch her brother's departure, then slid down the wall to sit on the ground, one hand reaching to rub at the back of her head. She looked at her hands for a moment, then balled them into fists, trying to stop their trembling. Gaze lifting, she asked softly, "This is all part of your plan, right, Dad? There's a plan?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chloe could hear the music as the elevator neared the penthouse at LUX: first simple chord progressions on the piano, modulating to a brief arpeggio, then, as the doors opened, a melody. Chloe stepped into the penthouse, but paused at the unexpected figure at the piano: a blond child. "Seasons don't fear the reaper," the girl sang, half under her breath, but then she fumbled the next several notes and muttered something indistinct but likely profane, from her tone.

"It sounded good, til the end," Chloe offered.

The girl twisted to face Chloe, back pressed against the piano. "What are you, a ninja?" she asked, startlingly familiar brown eyes wide with surprise.

Chloe chuckled. "Ah, no. Sorry. I'm a detective." She tapped the badge on her belt. Chloe Decker." Her tone implied, though she didn't ask, _And you are?_

"I'm Azrael. Well, Rae, really. Um, Morningstar." Azrael's gaze flicked to the badge, then back to Chloe. "You work with Lucifer? Sorry, he's not here. I thought he was on a case. Did somebody die?"

"Morningstar, huh?" Chloe stepped fully into the room, giving Azrael a thoughtful look. "I just saw him not too long ago," she replied with a smile. "He asked me to come here. Said he wanted me to meet someone, and I'm guessing he meant you." She hesitated over the girl's question, then added, "A man died, yes."

Azrael hesitated over her response, then just nodded. She suggested to Chloe, with a faint smile, "You're wondering who I am, right? Ella thought I was Lucifer's daughter."

"That thought did occur to me," Chloe agreed. "But you're not?"

Azrael shook her head. "I'm his sister," she explained. "Though considering Lucifer and his proclivities, daughter does seem a reasonable first guess."

Choking back a laugh, Chloe replied, "Well, thanks for setting me straight." Turning back to the piano, she added, "That was nice. I had lessons when I was your age, and I didn't play half as well."

"When you were my age," Azrael echoed, with a faint smile. "Well, thanks. That song doesn't work without cowbell, though. Not really." She half-turned and put her thumb on middle C, then added the third and the fifth. "It's such a great piano. I couldn't resist. I'm really out of practice, though." The sound of the elevator caught her attention, and she turned, though fully to face the piano. As the doors opened to admit Lucifer with two large take-out bags, Azrael struck up a melody easily recognizable as the end of The Devil Went Down to Georgia.

"Rae, you know that song is inaccurate," Lucifer protested, though not without a smile. "I deal in favors, not wagers. And even if I did make a wager, I certainly wouldn't lose." Catching sight of Chloe, he cast a smile her way. "Ah, you beat me here, Detective. I see you've met my sister. Rae, get some plates, would you?" he added, moving to the table. "Nothing fancy, wasn't time, but I know how you like spicy food, sis."

As Azrael departed in her errand, Chloe trailed behind Lucifer. "You never mentioned you had a sister."

"Didn't I? I've several, actually; Rae's the youngest of the lot." Lucifer began to pull take-out containers from their bags. "She got in a bit of trouble back home and our father sent her to me." At Chloe's incredulous stare, he added, "What?"

"Setting aside the thought of anyone being sent to you to stay out of trouble," Chloe began, keeping her voice low, "she's a child. You can't stand children. And now you're responsible for one? How long is she staying?"

Lucifer waved a hand in dismissal, "Rae's not a child, not really. She looks after herself. As for how long, we're not sure. Til dear old Dad decides to take her back, I suppose."

"She has no idea? That's a horrible thing to do to a child." Chloe shook her head.

Lucifer inclined his head. "That's my father for you."

Chloe began a heated, if still quiet response, though she cut off her words when Azrael returned, struggling a bit with the tray, which held plates, silverware, napkins, glasses, and a bottle of wine. "Oh, let me help you with that," Chloe said, moving to transfer the tray from Azrael's grip to the table.

"Thanks," Azrael replied, adding casually as she started to set the table, "You can keep talking about me if you like. I don't mind. Ooh, curry, nice."

Chloe started to deny that any such talk had occurred, but then paused as Azrael gave her a steady, knowing look. They all sat and began to dish out their food before Chloe spoke. "How old are you, Rae?"

"Ah, eleven," Azrael replied, after a brief hesitation.

With an approving nod at Azrael's wine choice, Lucifer poured. When he got to Azrael's glass, Chloe interrupted with an exasperated, "What are you doing? She's eleven years old."

"What, so no wine with dinner?" Lucifer queried. "I mean the Scotch, yes, clearly a mistake, but this? Hardly more than water. Not like it was that glorious a transformation, honestly, back in Cana."

"You gave her Scotch? Lucifer!"

Azrael observed mildly, getting to her feet and taking her glass, "He did offer milk first."

"There, you see," said Lucifer, as Azrael disappeared once more.

Chloe took up her fork, shaking her head with a smile. "You are so out of your depth, Lucifer."

Azrael returned with a glass of water. After a quick glance at Lucifer, she folded her hands and bowed her head.

Chloe paused in her meal. Lucifer did not. "Rae," he protested, a hint of impatience in his voice.

Azrael didn't open her eyes. "Just because you've burned your bridges, brother, doesn't mean I have to."

"But it doesn't mean anything. Dad's not even listening. And it's not like he provided the food; I did. "

Azrael remained quiet for a moment, then opened her eyes and offered a faintly apologetic smile to Lucifer. "Thanks to you, too, then. Hope it tastes as good as it smells."

"So, what grade are you in Rae?" asked Chloe, taking up her meal once more as well. "Eleven, that's sixth grade, right?"

Azrael took a large bite and took her time in chewing. "Mm, really good." Seeing that Chloe was still watching her expectantly, she added, "I don't go to school."

"Oh, are you homeschooled?" Shooting a sidelong, amused look at her partner, Chloe added, "You going help her out with that, Lucifer?"

The siblings exchanged a look, then burst out laughing, Chloe joining in after a moment.

"That," proclaimed Lucifer, "would be an unmitigated disaster."

With an amused nod, Azrael agreed, "I tried to get him to teach me piano. I thought he was going to strangle me."

"Well, you wouldn't listen," Lucifer protested, amused. "A little strangulation may have made the lessons go more smoothly. Less oxygen, fewer complaints, yes?"

Chloe observed, with a smile, "I just can't imagine you agreeing to something like piano lessons."

"Ah, but that's because you haven't heard little sis when she doesn't get her way," teased Lucifer. "She gets this particular high-pitched tone to her voice. Really, I should have recorded it for Hell. Effortless torture."

Shaking her head, Azrael informed Chloe, with a smile, "I didn't whine." At a look from Lucifer, she amended, "Not about the piano lessons, at least. But, really, Lucifer and I get along much better when he's not trying to teach me something." She considered her empty plate, then got to her feet. "I," she said, gathering up her dishes, "am going to the balcony to look at the city. Thanks for dinner, and it was nice to meet you, Detective."

With a smile, Chloe replied, "It was nice to meet you, too. Oh-I have a daughter a few years younger than you-Trixie. If you'd like to come by for some company closer to your age, you're welcome."

Azrael shot Lucifer a brief look, brows raised, and he assured her, "We've already been over the hooker-name thing. The offspring's name is actually Beatrice, if that helps."

Azrael took a deep breath. "Thank you, Detective. I'm sure Trixie is very nice and not. At all. A hooker. I may well take you up on that offer." She disposed of her dishes and made her way out to the balcony.

After watching Azrael go, Chloe turned back to Lucifer. "So what are you going to do about school?"

"Rae is very self-reliant, and I'm sure she can keep on as she's been doing," Lucifer replied, considering his wine glass and then topping off the glass, refilling Chloe's glass as well.

Brows creasing in a frown, Chloe asked, "Didn't your parents help her?"

"Well, Dad's not exactly the hands-on type, you know." Looking through the glass at his sister, Lucifer added, "She only just arrived yesterday, Detective. I'm sure we have some time to figure all this out before the truant officer comes knocking."

Chloe smiled. "Okay, true." Looking out to the balcony as well, she added, "There was a moment there, when she looked at me, I thought she was about a hundred years old."

"I would have said millenia, but I do see your point," Lucifer agreed.

Chloe cast an earnest look at her partner. "Rae seems like a mature little girl, but she's still really young, and your father sending her here has to be rough on her. If you need any help or advice, you know I'm here for you, right? I mean, you're basically parenting her. That's pretty different than a sibling relationship."

Lucifer leaned back in his chair. "Thank you. I'll bear that in mind. I'm sure everything will be fine, though." As Chloe got to her feet, he added, rising as well, "Are you going?"

"Oh-yes. Dan took Trixie out for pizza, and I need to get home to get her to bed." Hesitating for a moment, she added, "You're going to be, ah, aware of the fact that there's a child living here now, right? With your... lifestyle?"

Lucifer considered Chloe blankly for a moment, and then illumination struck. "Oh, the sex? No worries, Detective. I'll keep the orgies away from innocent eyes."

"That wasn't really what I-"

"Of course, you're always welcome to come supervise," Lucifer added, following Chloe to the elevator. "Make sure everything's on the up-and-up, hmm?"

Chloe shook her head, getting into the elevator. "Goodbye, Lucifer."

* * *

Lucifer stepped onto the balcony, making his way to his sister, who was seated on a low couch and peering into her cupped palm. "Take a look at this," she said, turning to her brother with a smile.

Lucifer settled down to a seat next to Azrael, looking as instructed. "You have a bug on your hand," he observed. Then, as the insect's lower abdomen flickered to light, he leaned in a little closer. "Never seen one of those around here." Catching sight of Azrael's face, he added, "Don't make more of this than it is. It's not a sign. You know dear old Dad doesn't do signs."

"Please just let me look at the bug, Lucifer," Azrael said lightly. When Lucifer settled back, gazing at the city, she added, "Do you know how it works? The light?"

"I haven't made a habit of studying insect emissions."

Azrael opened her hand a bit, though the insect remained. "It's a chemical reaction," she explained. "There's a light-producing substance, and an enzyme, and I think ATP is involved, though it's been a while since I read about this-"

Lucifer looked over with a small smile. "The detective is fretting about you and school. Wants to know how we're handling it. She should hear you talk about this."

Brows raised, Azrael said, "You're not actually thinking I would do that, are you? Go to a school?"

Looking entertained by the thought, Lucifer teased, "Sin of pride, was it? Seems like that would be a good way to learn humility, yes?"

With a short, sharp headshake, Azrael replied, "This isn't one of those ridiculous vampire books; it's my life."

"Calm down. I'm sure we'll be able to come up with some way to placate the authorities," Lucifer reassured. "Cash would work, if nothing else."

Looking askance at her brother, Azrael asked, "Since when are you concerned with placating authorities?" After a moment, she answered her own question. "Oh, wait, because of the detective. That makes sense, I suppose." When Lucifer didn't respond, she looked back to the insect in her hand. "I did have a point about the firefly."

"Oh? Do enlighten me."

"The light-producing substance is called luciferin," Azrael explained, leaning to rest her head lightly against her brother's shoulder, "and the enzyme is luciferase." She looked up at him with a smile, face briefly illuminated by the firefly's flicker. "So there's one good association with your name. Better than the goat, yes?"

Lucifer slipped an arm around his sister, pulling her close for a moment. "Yes," he agreed softly. "Much better than the goat"


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: Thanks for the follows and reviews. I really appreciate them! The tone was inspired by riml, who asked for a warm meeting with these characters. I bumped the rating up, for the innuendo.**

* * *

Azrael sat at the bar at LUX. The club was empty; the hour was late (or early) enough that even the staff had left. She turned the page of the book before her, peering with interest at the diagram before turning to the surrounding text. Hearing the distinctive click of high heels coming down the stairs, she exhaled a short, sharp breath. "Another one?" she muttered, before turning her attention more fully to the book, flipping between a few pages. "Doesn't mention me at all." The footsteps drew closer, and Azrael observed, not looking up, "They've been at it a while, but I daresay you can catch up if you hurry."

"Your brother has already asked me to stay out of that aspect of his life," the tall woman replied.

Azrael looked up, expression guarded. "Well, he has to finish at some point," she ventured. "One would hope, at least. I could let him know you stopped by?"

The woman stepped closer to Azrael, lightly putting a hand under the girl's chin to tip her face up. "Let's see what your father's done to you," she said gently. "There now, it's not so bad, for a human suit. Though why he decided to make you so small, I have no idea."

Azrael inhaled a slow, shaky breath. "Mom?"

Her mother smiled. "I have my boys here with me, and now my daughter as well."

Azrael slid down from her seat and gazed up at Charlotte. "Lucifer said you were in a human body, but I didn't know you were here, close."

"Well, where else would I be?" Charlotte asked gently. She cupped Azrael's cheek with one hand, musing, "Your father seems to be paying attention to something." At Azrael's bewildered look, she led the girl to the mirror, standing side by side with her. "Can you see it?"

Azrael stared into the mirror. "I haven't had this body for long," she said slowly, lifting a hand to her own cheek, where her mother's hand had just been. "Haven't really paid it any mind." From her expression, both puzzled and hopeful, she did see: though blurred by youth, her features were similar to Charlotte's. "Just the eyes are different," she added, tone thoughtful. Gaze shifting from her reflection to her mother's, she queried hesitantly, "You knew that Dad did... this. You know the, ah, situation?"

"Well, of course," her mother said pragmatically. "I came as soon as I heard what happened. Your brother told me all about it."

Azrael started to reply, then hesitated once more. "Which brother?"

"Amenadiel. He said the two of you had a little disagreement?"

"You could say that," Azrael agreed, glancing away away from her mother.

Charlotte gently lifted Azrael's chin once more to draw her gaze upwards. "You know I don't like it when you children fight. That little demon doesn't matter. I just want you and Amenadiel to get along."

"But, Mother, what she did to you-"

"Doesn't matter," Charlotte reiterated firmly. "Not if it's coming between you and your brother. Family is more important."

Azrael took a deep breath. "I'll speak with him," she conceded.

Charlotte smiled approvingly, drawing Azrael close. "That's my girl."

Azrael's eyes closed for a moment, her arm curling around her mother's waist. Shifting back, she asked, "You said-you've spoken with Lucifer?" Expression troubled, she added, "Mom, while you were in Hell, I did try to reason with him about you."

Charlotte smiled, a little wistfully. "And I'm sure he wouldn't listen."

"No," Azrael agreed softly. "He'd change the subject, or leave, or-well. I stopped trying to push the issue."

"That's probably for the best," Charlotte observed. "I would hate for you to come down on the wrong side of your brother's temper. But he and I have talked. It's all right. I don't blame him for what happened." She tucked a lock of Azrael's hair behind her ear. "I knew," she said, then, with a smile. "Every time you were in Hell, I knew."

Looking a little relieved, "Azrael queried, "How?"

"I'm your mother. Of course I knew. It gave me comfort, even if I couldn't see you."

Azrael took a deep breath. "Mom, I tried-" Shaking her head, she cut off her words, returning to the bar and closing the book, hands lingering on the tooled cover.

Charlotte followed. "Mazikeen told me."

"Of course she did," Azrael replied bitterly. "Undoubtedly in the worst way possible."

"Well, yes," Charlotte agreed, with a shake of her head. "That is her nature, after all." Considering her daughter, Charlotte inquired, "What were you hoping to do, after all that time?"

Azrael leaned against the bar, expression turning reflective. "I don't even know," she admitted. "It's not like I was trying to... to cross Dad, or even Lucifer. It doesn't matter, though, I guess," she added, absently rubbing at one arm. "I failed. Rather catastrophically, as it turns out."

"You spent a lot less time in Hell after that," Charlotte observed, resting a hand lightly on Azrael's back.

"Yes," Azrael agreed. Turning, she asked abruptly, "You know about Uriel, right?"

Charlotte nodded, looking Azrael directly in the eyes. "What happened to Uriel was tragic, and I will always mourn his loss, but you shouldn't blame yourself, and your father certainly shouldn't be punishing you for it."

Azrael leaned back against the bar, a certain subtle tension leaving her body. "Mom, you have no idea how much I needed to hear that."

Charlotte frowned thoughtfully. "I can't undo what your father has done, not here. I'm too limited by this flesh sack."

"Not here?" Azrael echoed, catching the vital word, eyes lit with sudden hope.

Charlotte nodded, watching her daughter closely. "Of course, if we were back in the Silver City, I'm sure I could do something about this."

Azrael deflated, shoulders slumping. "Oh. Well. That poses a bit of a problem, then."

"Amenadiel and I are working on it," Charlotte reassured. "We just need to convince Lucifer to come, too."

Azrael's brow furrowed. "I... I don't know that he wants to go home."

Charlotte smiled gently. "I'm sure he does. He just doesn't realize it yet."

Azrael ducked her head, running one finger along the spine of the book. "Mom, he's happy here," she ventured. "He wasn't happy in the Silver City. If he had been, he never would have rebelled against Father. And he was good at his job, but he wasn't happy in Hell. You didn't see him."

"No, I didn't," Charlotte agreed, tone clipped.

Azrael took a deep breath. "I did. I don't know how much he saw the others, but I was in and out of Hell with my job, and here, too." She made a vague gesture, presumably indicating all of Earth, rather than just the present location.

"Cleaning up your father's toys," Charlotte scoffed.

Azrael looked steadily at her mother. "Yes," she agreed. "But someone had to do it, and that someone was me. I did my job. I was good at it. And you remember why I got the job, right?"

Charlotte's expression softened. "I do," she said, resting a hand lightly on Azrael's. "And I'm sure your brother would be grateful if he knew."

"I didn't think Father would react like that," Azrael said slowly. "I thought, if he knew..." Azrael shook her head. "Momma, Luci's happy now," she repeated. "For the first time in I don't know how long. I'm not going to do anything to take that away from him." She folded her arms against her chest, watching her mother warily.

"Well, sweetheart, that's what I want for all of you," Charlotte said after a moment. "I just want my children to be happy." As Azrael relaxed, Charlotte added, "Did you think I would be upset with you for supporting your brother? Of course not." A chime from her phone elicited a brief look of annoyance. "I need to go. The children need help getting ready for school. I'll see you soon, though, all right?" She got to her feet, giving Azrael a parting smile. "I'm sorry your father is taking out his grief on you, but I'm so glad to be able to see you."

The clicking of Charlotte's shoes announced her departure as Azrael watched. "Goodbye, Mom," she called quietly, though not without a puzzled look for the mention of children. She turned to consider the alcohol behind the bar, then reached over the bar and poured herself a shot. Taking the drink, she walked around the bar, picking up the book on the way to the piano. She rested both book and still-full shot glass atop the piano, then pushed open the fall board, stretching her hands wide before resting them lightly on the keys. After a brief scale, she transitioned to a slow, steady piece, one note following another in precise order.

* * *

Azrael wasn't sure how much time had passed when her brother's voice interrupted her. "Bach, really?" She looked up to see him descending the stairs.

"What are you doing down here?" Azrael queried, with a brief smile. "You've got company up there."

"Company is all worn out and I had the munchies," Lucifer replied carelessly. "I saw your door open and thought to check down here. Do you never sleep?"

Azrael carefully closed the fall board. "I slept earlier," she replied, with a small shrug. "It got loud."

Lucifer smirked. "Well, yes. That does tend to happen."

"Little sister, here," Azrael protested, with a laugh. "There are certain things that I don't need to know." Casting a sidelong, amused look at her brother, she added, "Doesn't it get distracting when they mention Dad?"

"Oh, you have no idea," Lucifer groaned, moving to investigate the book. "This is all rubbish. You know that, right?" Discovering Azrael's drink, he tossed it back, ignoring her amused protest. "It's not like we don't have more."

"That's not the point," Azrael replied, though not without a smile. "And, yes, the book is ridiculous, but everything you have up there is either ridiculous, depressing, or deadly dull. Well, or porn. But I could read it."

Lucifer gave his sister a puzzled look. "Last I checked, you were literate, but good for you."

"It's in Italian, brother," Azrael explained patiently. "So it looks like I still have the gift of tongues, at least."

Lucifer grinned roguishly. "Ah, yes, I'm familiar with with that one. Not just a celestial gift, as it turns out."

"Oversharing! If I had something I could throw at you..."

Lucifer just laughed, heading to the bar and returning with two more shots. "Don't let me stop you," he added, gesturing toward the piano and replacing the purloined drink.

Azrael held up her hands. "They're smaller than I'm used to. Not much, but enough that I'm still figuring out what I can do. I can play that Bach in my sleep, though." She took a sip of her drink, then downed the rest of it. "You just missed Mom," she added.

"Oh?" Lucifer queried. "What did she want?"

"Just to say hello, I think," Azrael replied reassuringly. "Seeing her after all this time, it was really... good. Weird. I don't know."

Lucifer considered his own drink, then drank it in one gulp. "She does have her moments, both good and weird. I'm just not sure-"

"Lucifer, are you down here?"

Lucifer glanced up. "Ah, duty calls," he said, getting to his feet with a smirk.

Azrael quipped, sliding open the fall board once more, "I would guess that if you're thinking of it as a duty, you're doing it wrong."

Her only answer was her brother's laugh.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: Thanks for the follows and welcome to the new readers. I appreciate feedback!**

 **I'm not Catholic, so apologies for any errors in the church portion of the chapter. Rae's prayer was actually written by Thomas Merton and can be found in its entirety via Google; though she'd likely do some edits in the middle, she'd appreciate the mention of death.**

* * *

Azrael stood at edge of the the alcove just to the side of the nave at St. Brennan's, studying the candles. Brows lifting, she glanced up and then over her shoulder to see Ella chatting with a few older parishioners, before stepping into the alcove. Fumbling in her pocket, she pulled out a bill and tucked it into a basket before lighting a candle and settling onto the kneeler. "Father," she began quietly, folding her hands and resting them on the armrest. "I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end." She took a deep breath and then, resting her head on her folded hands, continued in silence.

When she had finished, Azrael got to her feet and turned to see a woman watching her, a baby in her arms and a toddler by her side. "How nice to see such devotion in one so young," she said, with a warm smile. "Are you new here? I'm Mary Grace and these are-"

At that moment, the older child dashed into the crowd, eliciting a look of exasperation from his mother. "He keeps doing that. Excuse me-oh, wait, could you hold her?" Before Azrael could protest, Mary Grace had thrust the baby into her arms and followed her son into the crowd.

Azrael held the baby at arms' length, eyes wide. "Why would someone do that?" she muttered, looking anxiously for Ella, who was no longer in sight. The baby's face puckered, her lower lip trembling. "Stop, no, no crying," Azrael informed the infant, who squirmed and kicked her chubby legs in response. "Because if you do, I'm going to swear in church, and I'm reasonably sure that will not go over well." Very carefully, she eased the baby closer, settling the girl on her hip and wincing a little at the resultant shriek of, she hoped, glee. "Ow, that's-yes, you've got my hair, could you-."

"Wow, you look like you should be working for the bomb squad right now." Ella's cheerful words were accompanied by the click of her phone's camera, which elicited an exasperated huff from Azrael. "How'd you end up with Sarah?"

"This woman just… handed me her offspring," Azrael replied, doing her best to pass over the baby. "I think it's stuck in my hair."

Ella skillfully evaded the handover, though she did reach to disentangle Azrael's hair from the baby's clinging fingers. "You're doing fine," she said, with a grin. "Michael must have pulled another Houdini." Looking amused, she added, "You sound just like your brother."

"Of course his name is Michael," Azrael muttered, as she shifted the baby in an attempt to keep her hair out of range after one final attempt proved that, no, Ella was not going to take the baby. Relief flooded her expression as Mary Grace returned, a less-than-contrite Michael in tow.

"Thank you so much," the woman said, reaching to take back her daughter. "It's just so much easier to catch him if I'm not carrying her, too." Sarah let out a wail, reaching for Azrael, who prudently edged back a step. Mary Grace added, "Aw, she likes you. How old are you?"

Azrael, straightening her clothing and smoothing her hair, replied, "Um, eleven. You're welcome. She's, uh, very strong."

Looking disappointed, Mary Grace said, "If you were older, I'd ask you about babysitting. Well, I hope you'll come back to St. Brennan's, and thanks again." Mary Grace bustled away, Sarah watching Azrael over her shoulder, Michael's hand held firmly.

Azrael leaned against the kneeler. "Wow, dodged a bullet, there," she breathed.

"Not a baby person, huh?" Ella asked, with a sympathetic grin. "I wasn't either, at your age."

Azrael rubbed lightly at her forehead. "Maybe if she hadn't been thrown at me, I don't know. No experience."

Ella swooped Azrael into an enthusiastic hug, ignoring the girl's surprised squeak. "Well, I'm just glad you came with me today. Did you have fun?"

Azrael fell in step with Ella. "I liked the ritual of it," she replied thoughtfully. "It was kind of relaxing."

"You seemed to know what you were doing with the responses," Ella commented, smiling in farewell to a young couple as she exited the church. "Are you Catholic?"

Azrael shook her head. "Me? No. I'm just... trying to find, uh, God. I guess."

Casting over a shrewd look, Ella observed, "You were praying pretty hard in there. Everything okay?"

"Yes," Azrael said, too quickly.

"Hey, no pressure," Ella said. "But we don't have to go straight back if you don't want to."

Azrael shot a considering look at the forensic tech. "I could really use an espresso," she said finally.

Ella's brows lifted a little. "Your brother lets you drink coffee?"

"Ella," Azrael replied, with a quick smile. "You know Lucifer, right? You think he's going to object to a little caffeine?"

With a laugh, Ella agreed, "Good point. I'm not really sure what-if anything-we could do that Lucifer wouldn't like."

Azrael took a breath as if to suggest something, but then shook her head, with another brief smile. "How about there?" she said, as she spotted a coffee shop up ahead. At Ella's nod of assent, she stepped into the shop, adding, with a hint of sarcasm, "No line, my prayers are answered."

"You joke, but this place is usually packed," Ella replied. The pair placed their orders and found a table near the window, before Ella added, "Rae, seriously, if you need to talk about anything..."

Azrael's eyebrows lifted, and she fidgeted with her drink before taking a sip. "I don't know what he wants me to do," she said finally.

"God?" Ella queried. At Azrael's nod, she said, "Well, he doesn't always make these things clear."

Azrael exhaled a short laugh. "No kidding. So I told him that. I said that I'm trying, and that I hope that's good enough."

"I'm pretty sure intent matters," Ella said, with a smile. "Do you feel better now?"

Azrael took another drink, expression reflective. "No," she said finally, "but I don't feel worse. Though I have to admit," she added, with a quick smile, "It's a little disturbing that the answer to my prayer is a lady handling me a baby."

Ella laughed, with a nod. "Hey, not everything is a sign. That could have been a completely irrelevant baby." She considered the phrase, then declared, "Completely Irrelevant Baby. That's going to be the name of my band."

Azrael regarded the woman with a puzzled smile. "You have a band?"

"Well, not yet," Ella replied, with a grin. "You want in?"

"In your hypothetical band?" Azrael shook her head, but said, "Sure, as long as you don't use that picture of Sarah and me for the first album cover."

Ella grinned, tapping her phone. "No promises, chickie."

There was a moment of companionable silence, but then Ella leaned forward. "So, I have to ask, who's Michael? You've mentioned him a few times, didn't sound like he was your favorite person."

Azrael took a sip of her drink before replying, "One of my older brothers-one of the more annoying ones, lately. Definitely not my favorite."

"Speaking from experience, being annoying is a pretty standard older-brother skill," Ella replied with a grin. "So Azrael, Lucifer, and... Michael. Your folks have some interesting ideas about naming their kids."

Azrael nodded, a hint of amusement in her expression. "Azrael means 'help from God,' right? One of my brothers-probably Michael, now that I think about it-used to say that my mother, on first sight of me, said, uh, 'God help us all,' and that's how I was named."

"What did your mom say?" Ella inquired, with a laugh.

Azrael smiled, a little wistfully. "She said not to let him get under my skin."

Ella nodded. "Good advice. But Lucifer, that's not his real name, is it?"

Azrael looked up from her drink. "It is," she said mildly.

"Wow. So he really just got into it?" Ella leaned back in her chair, adding, fascinated, "He's never broken character, not that I've seen. Does he relax at home, drop the act?"

Azrael shifted in her seat, turning to look out the window. "No," she said finally. "He's just... Lucifer."

"Wow," Ella repeated, shaking her head. "I'm impressed." Taking note of the empty mugs, she observed, "It's probably time to head back."

Azrael got to her feet with an amiable nod, grabbing the mugs and tucking them into the nearby tub. "I appreciate the stop-well, the trip in general, but caffeine makes a lot of things better. Theobromine just doesn't cut it sometimes."

Ushering her out the door, Ella observed, with a laugh, "You are an odd kid, Rae."

"... Thank you."


	10. Chapter 10

Azrael knocked on Linda's door, brows furrowed. At the doctor's pleasant greeting, she opened the door. "Sorry, my brother asked me to meet him here." Her tone was uncertain, and she hesitated outside the door.

Linda looked up from her desk with a smile. "Yes, come in. Have a seat; he should be here any minute. How are you setting in?"

Azrael came into the room and perched on the edge of the couch. "Fine," she replied as Linda came around to sit in the nearby chair. "Got some new clothes." She gestured to her shirt, a long-sleeved black and white raglan-style tee reading 'Death is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans.' "Michael sent one that said Daddy's Little Angel, if you can believe that. It had _glitter_." Shaking her head at this most egregious of Michael's crimes, she added, "Oh, and I held a baby."

"Well," Linda replied pleasantly, reaching back to the desk for her coffee mug, "it's good to hear that you're expressing yourself, having some positive experiences. Was that the first time you've held a baby?"

Azrael nodded. "Well," she amended, "one that was alive."

Linda carefully lowered her coffee mug, which had been nearly touching her mouth. After a moment, she suggested, "I'm assuming that relates to your... former job?

Azrael ducked her head. "Yes. Sorry. I guess that sounded, well, strange." She shook her head, expression one of disbelief. "The baby's mom said she would have asked me to babysit, if I'd been older. If she'd known who she was asking..."

"Well," Linda said thoughtfully, "who was she asking?"

Azrael gestured at herself. "Angel of Death," she replied. "Well, on hiatus, but still. I mean, its not as bad as how they think of Luci, but you humans don't exactly welcome me with open arms. And she just handed me her offspring, didn't bat an eye."

Linda smiled. "Well, why shouldn't she, Rae? What would you do to a baby?"

"Nothing," Azrael replied quickly. She considered Linda for a moment, then added, "You know I-I mean, the Angel of Death-I didn't actually kill anybody, right? I just... dealt with the aftermath."

Expression reflective, Linda said, "I never thought about it, really. Gaze flicking to Azrael, she added, "You had to take babies?"

"Well, babies die," Azrael replied, her tone gentle. Lips curving slightly, she added, "Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints."

Linda's eyes narrowed. "Did you just quote Hamilton?"

"Yes, sorry." Azrael's smile widened. "Not really appropriate for the situation, but it's so good. I've seen it, well, more times than I care to admit."

"How did you get tickets?" Linda queried. "I heard it was impossible."

Azrael looked amused. "The Angel of Death doesn't need theater tickets," she explained expansively. "You humans can't-couldn't-see me unless I wished it." She relaxed against the couch, adding, "If you really want to go, there's probably someone involved who owes Lucifer a favor."

"That's how you were using your gifts, little sister?" Amenadiel stood in the doorway, expression not exactly approving.

Azrael sat up sharply, but when she spoke, her tone was mild. "Don't judge me, brother-not for that, at least. It was worth bending the rules."

"Come in and sit down, Amenadiel," Linda encouraged. "We're going to try and keep an open mind-Azrael, I saw that," she added as Azrael, while her brother was passing in front of the couch, stuck her tongue out at him.

"Sorry," Azrael replied cheerfully, completely without contrition. "People keep commenting on my age, or what they think it is. Must be rubbing off on me or something."

Amenadiel settled at the other end of the couch from his sister. "Are you going to take this seriously?" he asked, shooting a quelling look at his sister.

"I don't even know what _this_ is," Azrael replied, a defensive tone creeping into her voice.

Linda took a deep breath. "All right," she said briskly, her manner one that would have worked well for unruly second-graders. "Amenadiel asked me if I would help the two of you work through some issues. Amenadiel, do you want to start?"

Azrael turned to stare at her brother. "That's what this is about? I told Mom I 'd speak with you; you didn't have to-" Catching Linda's stern look, she subsided, settling back against the couch and regarding her brother, though not without a sardonic lift of her eyebrows. "Sorry. Go ahead, brother."

Amenadiel shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "The last time we saw each other, I got angry with you," he said, taking his time, choosing his words carefully.

"I remember that part," Azrael murmured.

Linda, ignoring Azrael's aside, asked, "What made you angry, Amenadiel?"

"She-"

"Tell Azrael," Linda redirected.

Amenadiel turned to his sister. "You asked for my help."

After shooting a glance at Linda, perhaps for permission to speak, Azrael suggested, "That was never a problem before, brother."

"Right." Amenadiel smiled, shaking his head ruefully. "But this time I couldn't help. You're my baby sister, begging me to help you, and I couldn't."

Azrael's brows furrowed. "I wasn't angry that you wouldn't-couldn't help," she said. "Just-" She stopped abruptly, looking away.

"Disappointed," Amenadiel finished heavily. "In me."

"Not about that."

The silence hung for a moment, then Linda asked, "What disappointed you, Azrael?"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand, then pulled her legs onto the couch to sit cross-legged. "You're Amenadiel," she said finally.

"So?" Amenadiel replied.

"No," Azrael replied, the words bursting forth as a flood from a broken dam. "You're Amenadiel. Father's warrior, oldest of us all, strongest of us all, and you threw it all away for a demon. For her."

"Azrael, stop." The note of warning in Amenadiel's voice was unmistakable.

Linda sat straighter in her chair. "Are you talking about Maze?" she queried, a hint of stiffness to her voice.

Azrael took a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment. With only the barest of glances to Linda, and no acknowledgement of her question, she turned back to Amenadiel. "Mom said she doesn't matter, that family is the most important thing. I just-" She turned away, head dropping, jaw working, her hair falling to curtain her face.

Amenadiel cast a look to Linda, mouthing, "Now what?" When Linda gestured toward Azrael, he slid closer to her on the couch, half-reached toward her shoulder, she pulled back his hand. "Azrael." She didn't answer. "Rae."

The girl spoke, but too quietly.

Linda prompted gently, "Could you speak up, Rae?"

Azrael sat up, wiping impatiently at her eyes with the back of one hand. "This stupid body," she fumed, her frustration not helped by a mid-word hiccup. "Always leaking and-" She sneezed.

"God bless you," Linda said automatically.

There was a frozen silence.

After a moment, Azrael leaned back against the couch and laughed, an edge of hysteria to the sound. It took her a few moments to get herself under control. "Oh," she said finally, the remnants of her laughter bubbling at the edge of the drawn-out word. "Oh, if only that's all it took. Keep asking, Doctor. Maybe Dad will listen."

"I'm sorry," Linda began, but Azrael interrupted her.

"Don't be," she said, voice sincere. "It-the timing was odd, but it helped." Turning to Amenadiel, moisture still clinging to her eyelashes, she said, "Let's try this again. Mazikeen scares me, okay? I'm sure you must see something in her, beyond her obvious assets, but this is kind of hard to take." Amenadiel started to speak, but Azrael interrupted, adding gently, "I also get that it's none of my business. I'm trying, okay?"

Amenadiel hesitated, then said, "Maze wouldn't hurt you."

Azrael laughed, not without a trace of bitterness. "Brother, I can think of several situations where she would do just that."

Linda asked Azrael, "Have you spent much time with Maze?"

" _No_."

"Maybe you should try," Linda suggested. "Maze has changed rather significantly since I've known her."

"No," Azrael repeated, though without the fervor of her previous refusal.

Linda regarded Azrael for a long moment. "Just consider the possibility, Azrael. You don't have to do anything. Just think about it."

Azrael was silent for a long moment. "I will consider the possibility," she said, with dignity.

"Good," Linda said, smiling. "Is there anything else?"

Amenadiel coughed. "Sorry for how that conversation ended," he told Azrael.

"With the violence, you mean?" Azrael queried, with a hint of a smile for Linda's suddenly raised eyebrows. "Scary at the time-fragile mortal body and all-" She eyed Amenadiel. "Wait. Mom told you to say that."

Amenadiel chuckled. "Okay, true. But I would have thought about saying it, at least."

Azrael shrugged. "Close enough," she observed, getting to her feet. "Now, unless there is something else, I do have somewhere I need to be."

After a look of inquiry to Amenadiel, Linda nodded. "Remember, consider the possibility."

"I will," Azrael replied, inclining her head. "Brother, maybe next time we can talk without medical intervention."

Amenadiel smiled. "Sounds good, little sister. Let me walk you out."

* * *

 **Author's note: Just so we're perfectly clear, I do not believe that anyone involved with Hamilton made a deal with Lucifer. (But the show is good enough that I could entertain the possibility...)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Author's note: My offspring's activities and an upcoming job change are conspiring to cut into my writing time. I will try to update as often as I can, but it won't be as frequently as it has been in the past.**

* * *

Azrael reached toward the doorbell, then hesitated. She shifted from foot to foot, reached again, hesitated again. She cast a glance over her shoulder, but, no, the Uber driver had already left. She exhaled a short, sharp breath. "This is completely weird." She rubbed her face with one hand, then reached forward and rang the doorbell.

"They're here!" The voice, shrill with excitement, was followed by pounding footsteps, and then Trixie flung the door open. "Hi!" She peered behind Azrael as Chloe came up behind her daughter, asking, "Where's Lucifer?"

"Easy, baby," Chloe prompted, resting a hand on Trixie's shoulder. Her gaze dropped to Azrael's shirt and her brows lifted, but she continued, "This is Rae. Rae, this is Trixie." Still, her expression was curious about her partner's absence.

Azrael shifted her weight to her back foot. "He had a meeting at Lux," she replies, adding, "Nice to meet you, Trixie."

"I'll just bet he did," Chloe muttered.

Trixie looked briefly disappointed, then grinned up at Azrael. "Want to color?"

After casting a knowing glance at Chloe, Azrael replied, caught off-guard, "Color what?"

Trixie grabbed Azrael's hand. "Come on," she encouraged, tugging Azrael behind her to the breakfast bar, which was strewn with paper, coloring books, and writing implements of all kind.

Chloe closed the door and followed the girls. "It's good to see you, Rae. I'm glad you came. How are you settling in?"

"Fine," Azrael replied, climbing into a seat next to Trixie and studying the girl's partially completed drawing with interest.

Trixie looked at Azrael, her expression frankly curious. "Are you _really_ Lucifer's sister?"

"Trixie!" Chloe chided.

Azrael just smiled, replying, "I am. Why do you ask?"

"Because Lucifer is old," Trixie replied, adding red stripes to the side of her spaceship, "and you're a kid."

Azrael's smile widened for just a moment, then she reached to take a colored pencil, flipping it over and under the fingers of her right hand. "Oh, he's positively ancient," she agreed, "but he's one of the oldest in my family and I'm one of the youngest. There are a lot of us."

Trixie nodded, seeming to accept this. "Does he read you stories at bedtime?" she queried, as Chloe moved to the couch and took up her laptop.

Azrael considered the coloring books and chose a page with an underwater scene, absently shading the seaweed. "No," she replied. "he's not really a bedtime story sort of person."

A quiet snort sounded from the couch, and Azrael grinned.

"But what about your mommy and daddy?" Trixie persisted, adding a smallish, dark-haired astronaut next to the spaceship.

Azrael's lips curved at the thought of those particular designations applying to her parents. She moved on to the coral in her picture, shading it vibrant colors. "Well," she said, as Chloe took herself and a phonecall into the next room, "I live with Lucifer, for now. I used to live with my dad, and he's not the reading type, either." Slanting a glance at Trixie, she added, anticipating, "Nor my mother, when she lived with us."

"Oh." Trixie looked up at Azrael, her small face serious. "Are they divorced?"

Azrael nodded. "That's kind of an understatement."

"Mine, too-or they're going to be." Trixie kicked lightly at the side of the breakfast bar.

"Sorry," Azrael replied, expression sympathetic. "It sucks, huh?" As Trixie's eyes widened, Azrael added, "Was I not supposed to say that?"

Trixie shook her head, turning back to her coloring. "I won't tell."

"Thanks."

The pair colored in companionable silence for a few minutes. "It does," Trixie said finally.

Azrael looked up from the pair of crabs she was sketching into the bottom of the picture, below some fish. "What does what?"

"It-" Trixie peered in the direction her mother had vanished, then lowered her voice, whispering, "Sucks."

Azrael rubbed lightly at her forehead. Wasn't being a bad influence Lucifer's job? "You sad?" she asked gently. Trixie nodded. "Maybe a little mad?"

The smaller girl nodded again, though more slowly. "But I don't want to make Mommy sad." She put down her crayon, staring at her unfinished drawing.

Azrael put down her colored pencil and leaned in closer to Trixie, forearms resting on the top of the breakfast bar. Perhaps unconsciously, the smaller girl mirrored her pose, dark eyes intent on Azrael. "Your mom's a cop?" Azrael queried. Trixie nodded. "She's tough, right?"

"Yeah!" Trixie's braids swung with the force of her nod, her pride in her mother evident.

"So she can handle a little sad," Azrael reassured. "She's your mom. If you feel bad, she wants to help, and she's not going to let a little sad stop her, or even a lot of sad."

Trixie's expression was uncertain, but then both girls looked over when Chloe spoke from the doorway, her phone still in hand. "She's right, Monkey. Hey, c'mere."

Trixie slid down from the stool and ran to Chloe, hugging her and burrowing her face into her mother's side. As Chloe crouched down and began speaking urgently with her daughter, Azrael eased down from her own seat. Behind her and down a short hallway lay escape from the intensity of the moment: a powder room. Azrael closed the door quietly behind her and, after a moment spent surveying the room, perched on the toilet.

"This is what I've come to," Azrael mused, though not without a trace of amusement. "The Angel of Death-on hiatus-hiding in a bathroom."

When enough time had passed that Azrael judged that maybe Chloe and Trixie had had enough time to talk, she opened the door.

Mazikeen was there, standing hipshot, one hand on her hip. Azrael recoiled back a step. "Have you just been standing there, waiting for me to open the door?" she sputtered, trying to regain her composure.

"What are you doing here?" Maze demanded.

"I was invited," Azrael replied. "What are you doing here?"

Maze smirked. "I live here."

Azrael stared at the demon in shocked outrage. "My brother lets you-"

"Your brother," Maze interrupted sharply, stepping forward with menace, "doesn't _let_ me do anything."

Azrael stumbled backwards a step, hands lifting in a warding gesture.

"Wow, you really are scared of me," Maze marveled, her ire vanishing.

Azrael swallow hard, then looked up at Maze. "Of course I'm scared of you," she replied, her voice quiet but intent. She gestured at her chest in a sharp, impatient move. "Fragile mortal body, here. And you-" She didn't finish, looking down.

"Yeah, I remember." Mazikeen looked down on Azrael, some of the predatory gleam disappearing from her expression. "I never told Lucifer about that."

Azrael's brows furrowed. "I would have thought you'd have shouted it from the rooftops," she offered.

"Wasn't sure what Lucifer would do," Maze replied, with a shrug.

Azrael almost smiled. "Yeah, I can see that. He was a little more, ah, volatile then than he seems to be now. But this place, these people... he's different."

Maze started to answer, then half-turned to look over her shoulder.

"Everything all right in there?" Chloe called from the hallway. "Maze, let her out of there."

Maze stepped to she side and Azrael edged past. "You two know each other?"

Maze slung an arm around Azrael's shoulders, ignoring the girl's flinch. "Oh, yeah," she said brightly. "Azrael and me, we go way back."

"Feels like an eternity," Azrael murmured, ducking from under the demon's arm and starting down the hallway.

Chloe caught at Azrael's arm. "Hey," she said gently. "What you said to Trixie-thanks. I think maybe she needed to hear it from someone who's been there."

Azrael's gaze flicked to Chloe's hand, still on her arm, then back to the detective's face. "Oh, no problem. It's hard when your parents have troubles. I can relate." She looked for a moment as if she would say something more, but the slipped past Chloe to rejoin Trixie.

After a moment, Maze followed, though she continued on to her own room. Chloe stood in the hallway watching the two girls. "She reminds me of someone," she murmured. "Just can't put my finger on who."

Some time later, after more coloring and some chocolate chip cookies, which Trixie insisted in also sharing with Maze, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Trixie announced, dashing to the door and opening it. "Lucifer!" she announced gleefully, throwing her arms around him.

Azrael, ensconced on the couch next to Chloe, did not bother to hide her amusement at Lucifer's discontent. Fortunately for Lucifer, Trixie pulled away after a moment to inform him, "You need to read Rae a bedtime story tonight."

Lucifer looked past the little girl to his sister, who shrugged, lifting her hands as if to deny responsibility. "I assure you that Rae is literate," Lucifer informed the expectant Trixie. "Multiple languages, even. There's no need for bedtime stories."

"Trixie, it's fine," Azrael called from the couch.

"Mommy could read to you," Trixie offered, moving to perch on the arm of the couch next to Azrael. Eyes lighting, she added, "You could sleep over!"

Lucifer strolled to stand behind the couch. "Now there's a marvelous idea, Beatrice! What do you say, Detective? Would you read me a story, too? I've got some suggestions for reading material. Some even have pictures," he added, with a cheerful brow-waggle.

"Monkey, remember, you're going to Daddy's soon," Chloe said, shooting Lucifer a quelling look. "Maybe another time."

Seeing Trixie's expression cloud, Azrael added, "I couldn't stay tonight anyway, Trixie."

Chloe smiled warmly at Azrael. "You're welcome any time, Rae." Looking up, she added to Lucifer, "She was an angel."

"Was she, now?" Lucifer queried, casting a pointed look at his sister. "Not lately, I didn't think."

Azrael sighed." Figure of speech," she muttered.

"Rae, don't forget your picture!" Trixie hopped down from the couch and dashed to the breakfast bar, returning with the picture. Studying it, she queried, "Do the crabs think the fish are flying?"

Azrael scooted forward to see and Trixie obligingly moved closer, leaning lightly against the older girl. "Yes," Azrael decided with a smile.

Chloe got up to stand next to Lucifer, who was watching the girls with no small amount of bemusement. "They got along really well," Chloe said, smiling.

"I can see that," Lucifer replied, still sounding puzzled.

"Don't sound so surprised," Chloe teased. "Rae's a sweet girl and Trixie is, well, Trixie. Hey, baby," she added to her daughter. "Time to get ready. Daddy will be here soon."

Lucifer straightened. "Well, then, we should depart as well," he said.

Trixie dashed into her room, returning moments later with her backpack. She hugged Lucifer, which he tolerated, and then Azrael, who hugged back before getting to her feet.

"Come back soon, okay?" Trixie said hopefully, and Azrael nodded.

"Definitely," she agreed, before turning to her brother.

"Farewell, Detective," Lucifer said brightly. "Beatrice, be sure to give your father plenty of trouble tonight." Ushering Azrael to the door, he added, amused, "Coloring?"

"Strangely relaxing," Azrael observed, casting a smile and a wave over her shoulder to Chloe and Trixie. "You should try it."

The door closed behind them and Trixie settled into her mother's lap. "I really like her, Mommy," the little girl said.

"Me, too, baby," Chloe replied, cuddling her daughter closer. "Me, too."


	12. Chapter 12

Lucifer's phone sounded as he and Chloe exited the dilapidated apartment building; song lyrics were cut off as he answered. "Excellent timing, little sis. We just caught the bad guy." He listened for a moment, then queried, "Right, do you need bail money as well?"

The girl's exasperated response was audible even to Chloe, who laughed.

"Well, you can never tell," Lucifer said placatingly, though not without a wink to Chloe. "Yes. Soon as I can." He ended the call and tucked away the phone. "Rae says hello and asks you to please shoot me somewhere non-lethal, though if punishment is to occur, I have some alternatives I could suggest."

Shaking her head, Chloe queried, with an amused look, "What did she want?"

"Library card," Lucifer replied, getting into Chloe's car for the trip back to the station. "Apparently she's too young to get one on her own, so I need to go in and sign something." Taking his phone from his pocket, he added, amused, "Do you know, she reset my ring tones? She made Amenadiel's into that whiny Superman song."

Chloe shot a sidelong look at her partner as she drove. "You like her," she accused.

"My sister?" Lucifer replied. "Well, yes. Should I not?"

Chloe laughed. "No, you absolutely should. She's a sweet girl. But how often do you do something you should, something expected? I thought I'd hear endless complaints about her, and about your father for sending her."

"Touché, Detective," Lucifer replied, with a thoughtful smile. "Far be it from me to say that dear old Dad has actually made a good decision, but I'm enjoying having Rae here."

Chloe pulled the car into a spot. "Enjoying spending time with with a child," she teased. "Never thought I'd see the day. Have you heard anything about how long she's staying?"

"I've told you that she's not actually a child," Lucifer replied. "As for how long, of course not. Dad isn't talking, like usual."

Chloe shook her head. "I don't know the details, but he really needs to step up and be a parent," she said firmly.

Lucifer laughed, delighted. "Your lips to Dad's ears," he said, getting out of the car. "I don't see that happening, though. It never has before."

Chloe exited the car as well, with another headshake. "Well, Rae's welcome to come sleep over on Friday if she likes. I think Trixie's already asked her," she added. Lucifer took a breath and Chloe clarified, though not without a smile, "Just Rae."

"If you say so Detective," Lucifer replied, sounding a little nettled.

"I just don't think Trixie needs to hear your bedtime stories. You're welcome to come have breakfast with us on Saturday, though," she added, tone conciliatory. Chloe paused on the way into the station. "Did Rae set a ringtone for me?" she queried.

"What? Oh, I'm sure she did, but you've been texting rather than calling lately."

Expression curious, Chloe pulled out her phone and placed the call. A moment later, Marvin Gaye's smooth tones sounded from Lucifer's phone: _I've got sunshine on a cloudy day..._

Lucifer smiled. So did Chloe.

Lucifer adjusted his cuffs as he stepped through the sliding doors into the library. A passing staff member circled back to ask him, with a smile, "Can I help you find something?"

"Yes," Lucifer replied, his answering smile charming as ever. "I'm looking for a blond, about so high, dark eyes, deceptively sweet disposition."

The woman-who, incidentally, had dark hair-considered Lucifer with a somewhat disappointed look.

"My little sister," Lucifer clarified. "She asked me to meet her here."

The woman's expression cleared, and she smiled. "Oh, you mean Rae? Of course. What a lovely girl. Right this way." She led the way to the back of the library and pointed out Azrael, who was curled into the corner of an armchair, a stack of books on the table at her elbow. "She's got interesting taste in books," the woman observed, smiling once more before returning to her work.

"I'll just bet she does," Lucifer murmured. He hung back, taking a moment to watch his sister. She was completely absorbed in yet another book which, Lucifer saw, had an angel and a demon on the cover. "Perfect," he muttered.

Oblivious to any criticism of her reading material, Azrael pillowed her chin in her cupped hand, all but radiating amusement. She looked up suddenly, her gaze instinctively finding Lucifer, and her smile brightened. Fumbling for a bookmark, she hopped to her feet. "You'd like this one," she enthused. Seeing Lucifer's skeptical expression, she added, starting to take up the rest of her books, "Really. There's a part where they say you're not responsible for humanity's evil, that they produce it themselves. And I'm male _again_ , but I talk in all-caps, which is fun." *

"What's the premise?" Lucifer queried, interested despite himself.

"Impending apocalypse," Azrael replied, leading the way to the circulation desk, though she struggled a little with the books.

Lucifer followed. "And?"

Azrael grinned over her shoulder, though she didn't speak until she reached the desk and put down the books with a quiet oof. "I'm not telling. Read it yourself to find out."

The man behind the desk laughed. "That's the spirit. This your brother?"

Azrael nodded, rummaging in a pocket for a piece of paper. "You sign here," she instructed Lucifer. "It says-"

"Yes, I can read," Lucifer replied absently, scrawling his name as indicated.

The man behind the desk, took the form and offered Azrael a library card in exchange, which she signed. Taking another look at the form, he asked, with interest, "You're Lucifer Morningstar? The one who owns Lux?" He took the card back from Azrael and began checking out her books, though his attention was on Lucifer.

Lucifer smiled. "That's me," he agreed. "Stop by Lux any time."

"I'll do that. Maybe tonight."

Azrael took up her books and headed for the door, Lucifer eventually following. "Could you please not seduce all the librarians?" she asked, exasperation coloring her voice.

"Well, how many are there?" Lucifer replied pragmatically.

Azrael sighed. "I don't know. It's just that I've been coming here, and it'll get awkward..."

"They did seem to know you," Lucifer commented, opening his trunk for Azrael's books. "Is this where you've been going in the afternoons?"

With a nod, Azrael stowed her books, then closed the trunk. "I tried the pool hall down the street, but it had kind of a weird feel."

Lucifer frowned as the siblings got into the car. "Rae, you do need to be careful," he cautioned.

"What, 'remember, thou art mortal'?" Azrael queried. "I know. That's why I went to the library instead."

In deference to the pedestrians, Lucifer drove at something approaching a reasonable speed. "Just remember what happened the last time Dad sent one of his offspring here as a mortal," he joked.

"My situation is nothing like that," Azrael replied flatly.

"Right," Lucifer agreed. "But you remember what happened, in the end..."

Azrael let the back of her head rest against the seat back, her eyes closing. "I was there, Lucifer."

"Really?"

"Angel of Death. What do you think?" Azrael's tone of voice closed the door on that conversational topic.

Lucifer drove in silence for a moment, then asked, "You're going to the detective's house on Friday? To sleep?"

Azrael nodded. "Going to show Trixie how to bake a chocolate cake." She opened her eyes and added, teasing, "Devil's food."

"What? Now, that's just not right," Lucifer protested. "One of the few things that humanity associates with me that I actually like..."

Laughing, Azrael asked, "What's the matter?"

"I'm not invited, is what," Lucifer replied, wheeling the car into a spot at Lux and popping the trunk. "The detective was very clear on that."

Hopping out of the car and moving to get her books, Azrael said, "Well, it's a girls' night. I'm sure she'll still let you have some cake, though. I doubt we'll eat all of it."

Lucifer shook his head as he tossed his keys to the valet. "You haven't seen how her spawn eats."

"Hey," Azrael protested sharply, trailing behind her brother. "Lay off Trixie."

Lucifer rounded on his sister, brows arched. "I beg your pardon?"

Azrael drew back a step, nearly losing her precarious grip on her books, but met Lucifer's gaze squarely. "That's an insulting word," she said, though her tone softened. "You don't need to call her that."

Lucifer paused, going over his words. "What, spawn? You're getting snippy at me over that?"

"Yes." Azrael exhaled a shirt, annoyed breath. "Could we keep moving, if you're not going to take my head off? These books are heavy."

"Oh, give them here," Lucifer replied, moving to take the books and then continuing on to the penthouse elevator.

"Thank you." Azrael followed a few steps behind. "Trixie's a good kid," she offered pointedly.

Lucifer sighed. "For a small human, Beatrice is... not awful."

"Thanks, Luci," Azrael replied, with a smile. "I'll be sure to save you some cake."

* * *

* _Good_ _Omens_ by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman


	13. Chapter 13

**Author's note: Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favorites! Feedback helps me push through when the words aren't cooperating.**

* * *

Azrael leaned over the edge of the penthouse balcony, arms braced to push herself as far out as possible, eyes closed. Lucifer, coming into the penthouse, paused at the sight, then quietly moved to the balcony. "Everything all right?" he queried lightly.

Azrael started, and Lucifer's hand shot out to grab her before she could overbalance. 'Thanks," she said, taking a shaky step back from the balcony's edge. "That could have been embarrassing."

"Not to mention messy," Lucifer agreed. "Having a rough day?"

Azrael considered her answer as she followed Lucifer into the penthouse. "Nothing particularly awful happened," she said finally. "Just... missing home is all. Missing my wings. Wanted to feel the wind on my face."

"Ah." Lucifer poured himself a drink, then gestured with the bottle. "Want some? Or something else?"

Azrael shook her head, with a faint smile. "I don't think Chloe would be amused if I showed up smelling of alcohol."

Lucifer looked over. "Is that tonight, then?"

Azrael got herself a glass of water, then folded herself into a chair. "Sure is. I'm all set to go." She gestured toward the backpack next to her chair, decorated with Azrael from The Smurfs. "The humans named a cartoon cat after me," she said, looking amused. "Of course, the cat is male _and_ evil, but it's something."

Lucifer considered the backpack. "Good likeness," he teased. Azrael made a face at him, but he continued, "How are you paying for all this? Or are you paying?"

"I'm paying, "Azrael replied. "No stealing, that's one of the big ones."

Lucifer shook his head, dismissing the rule. "Yes, but where are you getting the money?" Azrael hesitated over her answer, and Lucifer said, with a grin, "Now you're trying to think of the most outrageous answer possible."

"It's really annoying when you do that," Azrael replied, shaking her head, though she smiled. "Nobody likes a show-off."

Lucifer laughed. "Plenty of people do, just depends what you're showing off. Seriously, though, do you need money, little sis? I've got plenty."

Azrael shook her head. "I'm doing okay, but thanks. As for where I got it... you won't laugh?"

"No promises, but I'll do my best."

Azrael curled a little more into the corner of her chair. "Uri helped me make some investments," she explained. "He saw the patterns, told me where to put the money."

"How'd you talk him into that?" Lucifer queried.

Azrael's smile held an edge of wistfulness. "I'd mentioned that having money would be useful, as much as I was here for my job, and he offered. He could be helpful when it suited him. He wasn't always... who he became." Her voice softened, grew thoughtful. "I think it was hard on him, knowing what would happen. Do you know," she added, looking up with another small smile, "The day Amenadiel took Mom to Hell, I was upset. I went walking, and came upon Uriel."

"Let me guess," Lucifer said crisply. "Uriel offered his _boundless_ wisdom, and you felt better."

Azrael shook her head, gaze distant. "He told me he knew it was going to happen, and I hit him."

That caught Lucifer's attention. "You hit Uriel?"

"Pretty sure he let me do it, what with the whole pattern thing," Azrael admitted, with a nod. "Just the once, but it helped. Uri, well..." She risked a glance at Lucifer, but he was studying his drink. "He understood some things."

Lucifer looked up, eyebrows lifting sardonically, "I don't really remember him as the understanding sort."

"Well," Azrael began. "No. You wouldn't." She hesitated, then added, "You didn't exactly have much of an opportunity to see him lately. Except for, well, that last time."

"Yes," Lucifer said, a note of irony creeping into his voice. "And we all know how well that turned out. Do enlighten me, dear sister, how brother Uriel was so understanding."

Azrael took a deep breath, then got to her feet. She crossed to where Lucifer was standing and got a glass, filling it and then topping off Lucifer's drink as well. She took a long drink, her expression wary.

"Thought you said the Detective wouldn't approve," Lucifer observed, though he pulled his refilled glass closer, perhaps recognizing that alcohol might help this particular conversation.

Azrael retreated a few steps. "Well, that's why Dad gave us breath mints." Leaning against the back of the couch, she said lightly, "Uriel was like me, is all. Not one of the favored children. Not the firstborn. Not," she added, with a gesture of her glass toward her brother, "the firebrand, Father's favorite. We-"

"Father's favorite," Lucifer protested. "Azrael, he cast me out, sent me to Hell, and you say that?"

Azrael took another drink, her hand tightening on the glass. "Yes, I do," she replied, her voice intent. "If Uriel had rebelled against him, if I had, we would have been killed. But you? He gave you a kingdom!"

"But it was Hell!" Lucifer drained his glass and set it down on the bar, a little too hard. "And you're hardly as out of favor as you say, little sister. _Angel of Death_ , yes?" Here he mimicked Azrael's habitual tone of voice for her former job.

"Angel of Death," Azrael agreed, voice brittle. "Yes." She tossed back her own drink. "And did it ever occur to you to ask why I got the job? Of course not." She put down her own glass with somewhat more care, then crossed her arms over her chest. Speaking slowly, her diction precise, she explained, "I was made Angel of Death after I suggested to our father that he should release you from Hell, or, barring that, take the time to go see for himself what being there was doing to you. I was polite. I was respectful. Despite that, he, in his infinite wisdom, decided that I clearly had too much spare time on my hands, and so- _Angel of Death_." Her voice held bitter mockery of Lucifer's mimicry.

Lucifer started forward, expression startled. "Rae-" he began.

"No," Azrael interrupted sharply. "You don't get to talk right now. You'll just use your charm, and you'll smile, and I'll remember that I like you, and I need to finish this while I can."

Lucifer subsided, lips tightening, and gestured that his sister should continue.

Azrael rubbed her forehead, then raked a hand through her hair, sending it askew. "The funny thing is that I ended up liking the job," she said quietly, studying the floor at her feet. "I don't know if that was part of Father's ineffable plan or just dumb luck. Then I lost a knife and he took it all away. You defied him again when you left Hell. You-" Her voice quivered as she turned her gaze back to Lucifer. "-you killed Uriel. I don't doubt your motivation, but that doesn't make him any less dead. Here you are with no consequences, life as usual. And you still doubt that you're favored?"

Lucifer shook his head, his expression gone grim. "You go too far," he said harshly. "You're pissed off at Dad for sending you here and you're taking it out on me." Azrael began a heated denial, but Lucifer turned sharply to her, eyes flaring red. "No," he snapped, as Azrael flinched. "Now it's my turn to talk. The reason I'm still here with, as you say, no consequences, is that dear old Dad doesn't give a shit. He wrote me off eons ago." Lucifer refilled his glass and paced toward the balcony, his movements those of a caged lion. "I shouldn't have to tell you this Azrael. You said Michael was the one who dealt with you; when was the last time our father even spoke to you? He doesn't care. You'll be lucky if he remembers to bring you back to the Silver City. He hasn't even done anything about Mum, and she led his precious humans to your blade, incited that killing spree. He just. Doesn't. Care."

Had Lucifer turned during his speech, he would have seen the emotions that crossed his sister's face. Initially shocked, she rocked back with the tide of his words, as if they carried the force of blows. Deep hurt warred with a low, simmering anger. If he had turned, he would have seen her pick up her backpack. As it was, the only thing he saw when he finally dud turn was the elevator doors closing behind her.

Lucifer considered the closed doors. He tossed back his drink, looked at the elevator again, shook his head. "Typical Azrael."

* * *

 **Author's note, take 2: Just realized that this is lucky chapter 13. No wonder things went off the rails with these two.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note:** **Thanks for the feedback on the previous chapter! I appreciate it.**

* * *

Lucifer allowed the driving beat of the piano piece to occupy all of his attention, pushing away all other thoughts. The discordant tones suited his mood and he enjoyed the metaphor; how could he not enjoy a piece called The Devil's Staircase? He lost himself in the music, oblivious to the passage of time. It took him a few moments to realize that his phone was ringing, and, more importantly, that it was Chloe's ringtone.

"Hello, Detective," he said, too brightly. "Do we have a case, or are you just calling for the pleasure of my company?"

"Neither." Chloe's voice was pleasant, to take the sting out of her words. "Trixie and I were just wondering if Rae was still coming over tonight."

Lucifer turned, his gaze flicking to the elevator doors. They had not opened again since his sister's departure. "Well, I assume so," he said carelessly. "She took her ridiculous bag with her when she left, and she may have had time to get over her little snit by now."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, then Chloe queried lightly, "Did something happen? I only ask because Rae was supposed to be here an hour ago. Trixie thought maybe she forgot."

"Oh, no, she remembered," Lucifer replied, stretching as he got up from the piano. "We discussed it earlier today. Probably just lost track; she's rubbish on time."

There was another pause as Chloe relayed this information to Trixie. Lucifer could hear the urchin replying that she would call Azrael. A moment later, a relentlessly cheerful tune came from Azrael's room. "Ah, Detective? Hold that thought." He stepped down the hall and pushed open Azrael's door. Her phone, apparently left to charge, was on the table next to the bed, still blaring about being a pioneer. After another moment, the song cut off. "Seems Azrael has left her phone, so tell your offspring that she isn't going to answer."

Slightly muffled, Chloe said, "Give me a minute, baby." Voice clear again, she said, "Where is she? I can go get her."

Lucifer hesitated. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted.

"Just so we're clear," Chloe said slowly, "Your sister is an hour late, she left her phone, and you have no idea where she is? And what's this about her being in a snit? That doesn't sound like Rae."

Lucifer exhaled a short, exasperated sigh. "We had a bit of a falling-out this afternoon and she left in a huff," he admitted.

Chloe's silence spoke volumes. Finally, she said, "You're not at all concerned?"

"This is what she does, Detective," Lucifer replied. "When she doesn't like what's happening, she leaves. She'll be back when it suits her. Honestly, it's best that she stay away until she sorts herself out. She's not fit company for anyone when she's in a temper."

"Lucifer!" Chloe exploded. "Rae is eleven years old, she's upset, she's been gone for hours and you have no idea where she is. You need to start acting like a grown-up where she's concerned. You've seen what can happen to children in this city." Lucifer started to reply, but Chloe interrupted him, saying, "Look. You stay there in case Rae comes back. Keep an eye on her phone. I'll get Dan to come stay with Trixie; he can let us know if she shows up here. I'll see if I can find her. Now. Do you have any helpful suggestions for where I might look?"

Lucifer's response was subdued. "There's a library she likes. I'll text you the address."

"Thank you."

Chloe stepped into the library and approached the front desk. "Hello," she greeted the man behind the desk, whose staff ID informed her that his name was Henry. Pulling out her phone, she showed a picture of Azrael. "I'm looking for this girl, have you seen her?"

Henry nodded, with a smile. "Of course. That's Rae. She's here all the time. Is everything all right?"

"When was the last time you saw her?" Chloe asked, tucking away her phone.

"She's usually in by now, but I just got in. Let me get Beth. She's been here all day." Henry picked up the phone and dialed. "Hey, Beth? Could you please come out front? Someone's asking about Rae." After a moment, he hung up the phone. "She'll be right out."

Chloe nodded. "Thanks. You all know Rae?" she added, with a quick smile.

"Oh, yeah. She's here a lot, such a sweet kid. Plus-" He leaned in conspiratorially. "-do you know her brother? He came in earlier this week. Yum."

"We've met," Chloe replied, with a tight smile and a headshake. She turned as a door to the back opened, and a young woman with bright burgundy hair emerged. "Beth?" she queried. Beth nodded. "Chloe Decker, LAPD. I'm looking for Rae." She moved her jacket, showing her badge.

"Is everything okay?" Beth asked, looking concerned. "Rae's not in trouble, is she?"

Chloe shook her head, with a reassuring smile. "We're just not sure where she is. I'm friends with her brother, just trying to track her down. Did she come in today?"

Beth led Chloe a few steps away from the desk. "She was here for a little while, a few hours ago, but not for very long. She's usually here for a few hours, but today it was only about ten minutes."

Chloe nodded. "That's helpful, thanks. How was she acting?"

Beth hesitated, then replied, "She's usually friendly, really polite. Today she didn't talk to anybody, just went right to the computer, and she never does that. She seemed, I don't know, kind of intense, and she didn't even look at the books."

Chloe glanced over at the computers. "Can we see what websites she visited?"

"No," Beth replied, shaking her head. "The computers don't keep track. Privacy." She hesitated, clearly torn.

Chloe turned back, saying gently, "Beth, if there's anything else you can tell me, it would really help. We just want to make sure that Rae's okay."

"We don't keep track, but I happened to walk past while Rae was on the computer," Beth said finally. "She was looking at articles about those awful murders, the ones in the yoga studio. I was going to try to take her aside, see if everything was okay, but then I was called away. By the time I got back, she was gone."

Chloe nodded, her brows furrowing. "Why would she be looking at those?" she wondered aloud.

"I have no idea," Beth replied. Looking troubled, she added, "Look, we're not supposed to comment on what folks check out, but Rae... she's been reading some pretty intense stuff. Books about religion, philosophy, uh, death. Mostly death, to be honest. Some of it was pretty grim."

"Not from the kids' section, I take it?" Chloe asked, looking thoughtful.

Beth shook her head, with a quick, nervous laugh. "I'm not sure I'd understand some of it," she admitted. Hey, I have to get back to work, but you'll keep us posted? Let us know Rae's all right? We all really like her."

"I will," Chloe reassured. "Thanks so much for your help." She pulled out her phone as she walked through the library doors and called Lucifer. "Any word?"

"Hello to you, too, Detective," Lucifer replied. "Rae hasn't deigned to make her presence known to me, no."

Chloe walked in a circle, exhaling a brief, frustrated sigh." Can you please take this seriously? I spoke with the librarians and Rae was here. She apparently came in and looked up the Jensen Glory case." There was silence from the phone. "Lucifer? Why would she even know about that case? It was before she got here."

"I think I know where she is," Lucifer said finally. "And she may be doing something very stupid."

 _ **Earlier**_

Azrael ducked out of the library and turned left, striding down the sidewalk, having successfully evaded librarian chitchat. She continued weaving restlessly through her fellow pedestrians, trying to make sense of what she had learned. Coming to a sudden, frustrated halt, she was buffeted by a frazzled businessman, knocked hard to the ground. "Watch it," he yelled over his shoulder.

The traffic parted around her as she got gingerly to her feet, brushing at one scraped hand, and made her way to the closest building: a church. Casting a suspicious glance skyward, she tried the door; it opened, and she stepped inside.

This building didn't have the grandeur of St. Brennan's. Azrael eased into the first of a row of battered folding chairs, carefully pulling up the leg of her newly-ripped jeans. "Spectacular," she muttered bitterly, seeing the gash on her knee. She dabbed at the wound with her sleeve, hissing softly, then tugged her jeans back into place. Farther into the building, she heard music: the church choir, perhaps.

Azrael leaned back against the chair, tipping her head back to look at the ceiling. It was arbitrary-if he was anywhere, he was everywhere-but it made her feel better. "Father." Her voice was low, but intent. "It's me. Azrael. Your daughter. You do remember... right? Look, I know you're not big on communication these days, but I could really use... something." She bowed her head; her whole body spoke a prayer, as if she could get her father to respond through sheer willpower. Her voice broke as she continued. "Anything." She remained motionless for a long moment, waiting.

Finally, Azrael got to her feet, jaw set, lips tight, eyes glittering. She silently left the church, steps purposeful.

Farther into the building, the choir began a new song: _Maybe there's a light in my soul..._


	15. Chapter 15

**Author's note: The reveal near the end was something I'd pictured before I started writing any of this, though I'm still not sure I like how I got there. In my defense, it was still very early season 2 at that point.**

 **Sorry this is short. I was going to wait to post until I had more, but wanted to get something out.**

* * *

The Goddess of all Creation, God's ex-wife, currently residing in the mortal body of Charlotte Richards, was tired. The children had been particularly argumentative that morning, the jury had only responded tolerably to her considerable charms in court, and then she'd had to go to the precinct to speak with a client who had gotten himself in still more trouble. All she wanted was to drop off her files at the office, go back to the building that served as home, and take off her truly spectacular Manolo Blahniks.

Thus she was not exactly pleased to see her youngest daughter seated on her office couch and wearing a grim expression that, even after all this time and on Azrael's ridiculous mortal body, was ominously familiar.

"Mother," Azrael said coolly, getting to her feet.

Charlotte crossed to her desk and put down her files. "Whatever it is, Azrael, it's going to have to wait."

Azrael's jaw tightened and she shook her head, a short, impatient gesture. "Mother, no," she replied, her volume increasing despite herself. "I've been sitting here for hours. You can spare me a few minutes."

Charlotte sighed. She leaned back against her desk and surreptitiously lifted one foot, easing the pressure. "Why have you been here for hours?" she asked, with a touch of exasperation. "My secretary could have told you that I wouldn't be back until late."

"I didn't ask your secretary," Azrael replied flatly. "I let myself in."

Charlotte shifted her weight, lifting her other foot. "Just tell me what you want and be done with it."

Azrael crossed to stand before her mother and tipped her head back, looking up. "Lucifer said... well, he said a lot of things, but that you led the humans to my blade."

"Well, not so much led as drew them a map," Charlotte replied pragmatically. "I thought they'd never find it, and then your brother put a stop to it all so quickly."

Azrael turned on her heel, walking a tight circle, speechless for a moment. Charlotte watched her, brows lifted, until Azrael came to a stop. "What were you thinking?" Azrael demanded. "Why would you do that?"

"I was thinking that it would get your father's attention," Charlotte replied tartly.

Azrael shook her head, with a short, bitter laugh. "Really? That was your goal? Well, you know what? It worked. According to Michael, that was what sent Father over the edge. Your little stunt was what made him decide to do this to me." She gestured furiously at herself stepping closer to her mother, then clenched her trembling hands. "So thanks. Thank you very much. You sure got his attention."

"Watch how you speak to me," Charlotte flared, her voice sharp with reprimand. "Have you forgotten that I'm your mother?"

"I don't know, _Mom_ ," Azrael replied insolently, pushing closer. "Have _you_?"

Before either of them really realized what would happen, Charlotte lashed out, slapping Azrael hard, actually knocking the girl back several steps. Head bowed, Azrael did not see her mother's shocked expression. Perhaps Charlotte would have said something in that instant, an apology, words of consolation, but a startled voice sounded from the doorway. "What is going on in here?"

Azrael lifted her head, her left cheek reddened. A glint of fear in her eyes, she moved, subtly placing herself between her mother and the newcomer. "Detective Decker, hello," she said lightly. "Have you met my mother?"

"Yes," Chloe replied automatically, though she looked rather stunned. "I just hadn't realized... but you didn't answer my question."

Charlotte drew herself upright, and Azrael darted a quick look over her shoulder at her mother. "Everything's fine, Detective," Charlotte said smoothly. "Just a little disagreement. You know how emotional _little girls_ can be, I'm sure."

Azrael's jaw tightened for a moment, though she smoothed her expression when Chloe turned to her. "Rae, Lucifer's been worried about you. Why don't you let me give you a ride back to Lux?"

Azrael nodded and crossed to the couch, scooping up her backpack. "Thanks," she said lightly, heading toward the door, and Chloe.

"Azrael." Her mother's word stopped her, though she didn't turn to look, didn't see the hint of apology in Charlotte's manner. "We'll continue this discussion another time."

"Count on it," Azrael replied quietly. She continued out of the room, Chloe following.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's note: This picks up immediately after the last chapter.**

 **While I've probably inadvertently included my favorite phrases from things I've read, Azrael's joke to Dan was taken from the Gilmore Girls pilot. I couldn't resist.**

 **Thanks for favorites / follows / reviews!**

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When they'd gotten out of sight of the office and were approaching the car, Chloe stopped, though Azrael did not. "Rae," the detective called, and the girl turned. "Charlotte Richards is your mother." Her tone was somewhere between a question and a statement.

"Yes," Azrael replied, casting a look back to her mother's office.

Chloe pursed her lips. "Nice of your brother to inform me of that fact."

Azrael sighed. "Please don't be mad at him," she said, edging a step farther from the office. "Somehow it will end up being my fault, and he's already not that happy with me."

Chloe shook her head. "Rae, he sent me here to look for you, without letting me know what I was walking into. Partners don't do that."

"I'm guessing he didn't think you'd find out," Azrael observed. She turned to look at the office once more, the glow from the streetlights catching her face.

"That's who you reminded me of," Chloe realized aloud. "You look just like her."

"Pretty much," Azrael agreed tightly.

Chloe shook her head, expression thoughtful. "So she's Lucifer's stepmother. That... explains a lot."

"Actually..." Azrael began, but then she shook her head. "My family is complicated."

Chloe couldn't help but chuckle, with a nod of agreement, and her expression softened as she looked at Azrael. "Are you all right? We were worried about you."

"Lucifer wasn't," Azrael replied, though her tone was mild, not accusatory.

Chloe paused. "Well, not at first, but he is, now. Let me tell him you're okay, and then I'll take you back." She pulled out her phone, and Azrael started walking again. "Rae," Chloe called sharply.

Azrael stopped. "Yes?"

"Where do you think you're going?"

Azrael turned, gesturing down the road. "There's a cafe two blocks down. Saw it on my way here. It should still be open."

Chloe tucked the phone away. "Hey," she said, her voice gentler. "Look, I can't let you go." Seeing Azrael tense, ready to bolt, she broke out the heavy artillery. "Trixie's really worried about you."

Azrael cast another look down the road, then lowered her head. "I don't want to go back to Lux right now," she admitted quietly. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not going to like the conversation we're going to have if I get in the car with you."

Chloe stepped closer, her manner reassuring. "How about this?" she suggested. "You come back to my place, and I'll get Lucifer to come talk to you there."

Azrael regarded the detective for a long moment, then inclined her head in a brief nod. "And the conversation in the car?"

Chloe smiled. "Non-negotiable."

Azrael sighed, but she turned to the car and got in. Chloe placed a quick call to Lucifer, then joined her.

They had been driving for a few minutes when the detective spoke. "So what happened with your mom back there..."

"That was the first time," Azrael replied, staring out her window but not seeing the passing landscape. "She's never done that before today."

"Okay. Well, her doing it now, that's not all right. You know that, yeah?" Chloe was quiet for a moment. "Are you okay?"

Azrael twisted to sit facing forward again. She prodded gingerly at her cheek. "I know," she said finally. "And I'm fine. More surprised me than-" Catching sight of Chloe's eloquently skeptical eyebrow, she amended, "Okay, it hurts. But it'll be okay. Today's just been..." She let her head drop back against the seat behind her. "Really bad," she said finally.

"Yeah," Chloe agreed. It seemed like most of her attention was on driving, but she shot a quick, worried glance at the girl. "Lucifer said you two had an argument?"

Azrael took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Have you ever had one of those days? Like... I was standing at the top of a mountain and then-boom! It turned into an avalanche and I just couldn't stop." She rubbed her forehead, eyes still closed. In a small voice, she added, "I should have just stayed in bed today."

"Well," Chloe said thoughtfully. "I think we all do things we regret, and it's easy to take out a rough day on family."

Azrael shot a quick look at Chloe. "Lucifer... you said he was worried?" she asked hesitantly.

Chloe stepped at a red light and looked over at Azrael. "Yes," she replied, her voice intent. "Rae, even when you get upset, you can't just... take off like that, without anybody knowing where you are."

Azrael looked a little puzzled. "Why not?"

Chloe exhaled sharply, exasperated. "Because you're eleven years old. You're a pretty mature kid, but you're still a kid. Anything could have happened."

"It didn't, though," Azrael replied, though not without a faint smile for being termed mature. "I went to the library-like I do every day-and then to my mother's office. It's not like I was knocking over liquor stores or getting high on a street corner."

"I was more worried about what other people might do," Chloe explained as she moved the car along with the resumed traffic. "I've seen some pretty bad stuff out there."

Azrael murmured, mostly under her breath, "You don't know the half of it." Chloe made an interrogative noise, and Azrael said, "Nothing. I just... I really needed to get out, right then."

"Why?" Chloe asked. "The fight with your brother, was it that bad?"

Azrael exhaled a long, near-silent breath. "I made him angry," she said finally. "I meant what I said to him, but he can get kind of... intense when he's angry. Scary, especially now that I'm-" She cut off her words sharply. "Living with him," she finished unconvincingly.

"Uh huh," Chloe replied, her tone making it clear that Azrael's slip had not gone unnoticed. "And you ended up at your mom's office, what, to complain about Lucifer?"

Azrael rested her head against the car door. "No, though that would have been interesting," she mused. "He told me something that Mom did, and I wanted to ask her about it." She was quiet for a moment, then asked, "You and Trixie's dad, do you get along?"

Chloe considered her answer. "For the most part, yes," she replied. "Though it took us a while to get to that place. Maybe your parents will get there, too."

Azrael shook her head, sitting up as the car approached their destination. "They've had time. They're just going to keep at it, and they don't care who else they hurt." Seeing Lucifer leaning against the side of his Corvette, she swallowed convulsively. "I don't want to talk to him right now," she said urgently.

Chloe parked the car and then turned to the girl. "It's going to be all right, Rae. He's your brother. Even if he's upset with you, he still loves you."

Azrael gave Chloe a brief look of absolute bafflement, but her gaze moved unerringly toward Lucifer. "I just really can't handle another argument tonight." She turned back to Chloe, an unspoken plea in her eyes.

After a long look at Azrael, Chloe nodded. "I'll talk to him, and then bring him inside. No arguments. But," she added, her firm tone drawing Azrael's gaze back from Lucifer, "I expect to find you in the house when we come in. No sneaking out the back."

With a sheepishly guilty expression, Azrael observed, "You're good at this."

"Yeah," Chloe agreed, with a quick smile. "I should be a detective or something."

The two got out of the car and Lucifer pushed off from his car, moving as if to join them. "Hey, I'll be right back," Chloe called to him. She moved with Azrael toward the house, leaving Lucifer behind, somewhat perplexed.

Chloe ushered Azrael into the house, where Dan was seated in a chair. He turned the television off, getting to his feet. "Hey, you found her," he said, looking pleased. "Trixie's upstairs asleep," he added.

Chloe nodded, with a quick smile. "Thanks, Dan. Could you stay just a few minutes longer? Lucifer's here, and I need to talk to him."

Dan nodded agreeably, settling back to his former seat. "Of course."

Chloe moved closer to murmur to Dan, "Make sure she doesn't leave, yeah?" As Dan nodded, Chloe gave Azrael a pointed look before heading out the door, and the girl moved to sit on the couch.

Dan shifted back in his seat. "So you're Lucifer's sister."

Azrael nodded. "Rae, uh, Morningstar," she supplied.

"Nice to meet you," Dan replied. "I'm Trixie's dad."

Azrael nodded again. "I figured." She settled deeper into her seat, observing, "You don't have to stay. They're right outside, if something happens with Trixie."

With a quick smile, Dan shook his head, "Chloe said you were a flight risk. I'm good here."

Azrael glanced toward the back door then turned back to Dan, eyes wide, expression innocent. "Why would I want to leave?"

Dan chuckled, shaking his head. "Trixie does that look, too. Not going to work."

The door opened and Azrael turned sharply to look, then sank back in her seat as Mazikeen entered, closing the door behind her. The demon crossed the room to sit on the couch just a little too close to Azrael. "Look at you, causing trouble," she said brightly.

Azrael shifted away just a bit. "I'm not," she replied, though she risked another look at the door.

"No, you totally are," Maze countered. "You should hear the two of them out there. Chloe seemed pretty pissed off."

"Maze, don't tease her," Dan chided.

Maze turned her gaze upon Dan and smiled. It was not a comforting smile, though it was to Azrael that she spoke. "Hey, did you know that Dan had sex with your mother?"

Dan choked, his eyes widening. "What?" he sputtered. Seeing Azrael's disturbed look, he assured her, "No, I didn't. I don't even know your mother."

Maze smiled broadly. "Tell him who she is," she directed Azrael.

"Charlotte Richards," Azrael replied. As Dan gaped at her, a mischievous glint shone briefly in her dark eyes. "So you did sleep with her? Are you going to be my new daddy?" She clasped her hands in a gleeful gesture that was only a trifle overdone. "Trixie and I will be sisters!"

Dan stared at Azrael in horrified dismay, and Maze cackled, delighted. "Dan, you should see your face!"

"That's not funny." Dan shook his head as he got to his feet and headed into the kitchen.

"I thought it was a little funny," Azrael murmured.

Maze got to her feet. "It was funny, Tiny Death," she replied. Still chuckling, she headed upstairs.

After a few minutes, Dan returned from the kitchen carrying an ice pack, which he offered to Azrael. "For your..." He gestured vaguely towards Azrael's cheek, and the bruise there.

Azrael had the grace to look abashed. "Thanks." She held the ice pack to her face, leaning against the back of the couch.

Dan sat down once more. Looking more than a little uncomfortable, he said, "About your mother and me..."

"Not my business," Azrael replied quickly. "And, well, I really don't need details. At all. _Ever_. Please."

The pair sat in awkward silence for a moment, but then the sound of movement on the stairs caught their attention. Trixie, tousle-haired from sleep, jumped over the last step and ran to the couch, all but hurtling into Azrael and wrapping her arms around the older girl. "Rae! You came!"

Azrael moved just quickly enough to catch Trixie, but she smiled, hugging her close for a moment. "Of course I came."

"Come on. Let's go upstairs." Trixie hopped to her feet and grabbed Azrael's hand, pulling her along. Dan lifted a hand as if to protest, but there was no stopping his daughter. The pair hurried upstairs, Trixie giggling the whole time.


	17. Chapter 17

**Author's note: Sorry so short! The new job is kicking my butt.**

 **I thought Azrael deserved a break, and Trixie is good for the cute.**

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The girls were upstairs and in Trixie's room in a matter of moments.

"Where were you?" Trixie demanded, climbing to a seat on her bed. "We waited and waited."

"I'm sorry." Azrael's apology was immediate and sincere, but she considered the rest of her answer for a moment. "I had to go see my mother," she replied finally, moving to stand at Trixie's window.

"Oh," Trixie replied, watching Azrael with interest. "Does she live in LA?"

Azrael nodded as she stepped a little closer, leaning to peer toward the street.

Looking puzzled, Trixie asked, "Then why don't you live with her, instead of Lucifer?"

"My father wanted me to stay with Lucifer," Azrael replied, absently flipping the window's lock back and forth. "Plus, she's got another family. It would be weird."

"Rae?" Azrael turned and then hesitated, taking in Trixie's downcast appearance. The smaller girl asked plaintively, "Are you gonna climb out the window? It's really far down."

Azrael stared at Trixie for a moment. "Is it genetic," she murmured, "Or am I just that obvious?" She double-checked that the lock was engaged, then took one more peek out the window. She stepped back suddenly, looking startled and just a little guilty, then moved to join Trixie on the bed, sitting cross-legged. "I'm not climbing out the window," she assured, smiling as Trixie perked up.

"Ooh, what happened to your knee?" Trixie queried, gesturing to Azrael's ripped jeans.

Azrael glanced down at the knee in question. "Some guy knocked me down," she said dismissively. "It's okay."

Trixie hopped to her feet and scooted out of the room.

"Do I go after her, or...?" Azrael mused, but she didn't have time to finish before Trixie had returned.

"I brought some Band-Aids," Trixie offered, jumping onto the bed once more.

Azrael obligingly eased up the leg of her jeans, making a face at the cut.

"Does it hurt?" Trixie asked, inexpertly applying first one and then a second Star Wars bandaid.

Azrael was quiet for a moment, head bowed over her knee. "Thanks," she replied softly. Looking up with a rather wavery smile, she added, "That helped. It doesn't hurt now."

Studying her friend, Trixie queried, " Did you hit your face when you fell, too?"

Azrael's hand twitched toward her cheek. "Uh, something like that," she evaded.

Trixie's brows lowered, her look of concern deepening. "Are you in trouble?" she asked. "'Cause Mommy and Lucifer didn't know where you were? Is that why you were gonna go out the window?"

"No," Azrael replied promptly. She stretched out crosswise on the bed, legs dangling over the edge, arms folded beneath her head. Slanting a quick look over at Trixie, she observed, with just a little too much bravado, "Lucifer's not the boss of me."

"Who is, then?" Trixie queried, flopping onto the bed in a mirror of Azrael's pose.

Azrael considered her answer, peering up at the ceiling as if it contained some insight. "Nobody," she decided. "Just me."

Her response drew a skeptical look from Trixie. "Not your mommy?"

"No." Azrael's response was quiet, but held a hint of fervor. "Not her."

Trixie rolled onto her front, pillowing her head on her crossed arms and kicking her feet. "What about your daddy?"

Azrael inhaled a deep breath. "Are you supposed to be asleep?" she deflected. "I don't want to get you in trouble."

"Probably." Trixie's grin was one of sheer, blissful unconcern.

Azrael's brows lifted. "I could read you a story?" she offered, laughing when Trixie all but catapulted off the bed to her bookshelf.

"This one!" Trixie requested.

Azrael sat up and took the book. "The Graveyard Book... nice title," she observed, flipping through the pages. Going back to the beginning, she scanned the first page. "Looks pretty intense, though. You sure your mom's okay with it? I don't want to get me in trouble, either."

Trixie sprawled on the bed once more, this time with her head on her pillow. "It wouldn't be here if it wasn't okay," she said, all confidence. "I like scary stuff. Besides, you're the boss of you, right?"

"Right," Azrael agreed faintly, reorienting herself on the bed next to Trixie. "But this beginning..." She read the first line aloud: "There was a hand in the darkness, and it held a knife... Mm, no. This is one you should read with your mom." She set the book on Trixie's bedside table.

Trixie's pout lasted only a few seconds, and then she chose another, smaller book. "It's about bats," she said, settling back next to Azrael.*

"This is... ridiculously cute," Azrael said as she flipped through the book, charmed despite herself.

Trixie nodded as she nestled closer. "The one in the floaties is my favorite," she confided.

Azrael nodded and began to read, her voice dropping easily into the cadences of the rhyming lines. It must be admitted that, the first time through, Trixie had to keep Azrael from being distracted by the illustrations, and only sheer force of willpower kept her from a tangent on the Fibonacci sequence when it appeared in one of the pictures.

The second read through went more smoothly. By the third, Trixie was asleep, both of her arms looped around one of Azrael's, as if her friend were an oversized, particularly mobile teddy bear.

Azrael carefully set aside the bat book, then looked over to the window. She considered her captive arm and the little girl next to her and then, with a smile, reached for The Graveyard Book, settling in for the night.

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 ***Bats at the Library by Brian Lies. Highly recommended, as is Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's note: This one gave me a little trouble. In the end, I decided just to post it, so I couldn't make it worse through poking at it. I took into account some feedback, which I always appreciate!**

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Chloe closed the door behind her, shaking her head, and crossed to the car and her waiting partner.

"I thought the point of my coming here was that I'd speak with my wayward sister," Lucifer observed, adjusting his cuffs as he straightened once more, stepping away from the side of his car. "That's somewhat more challenging with her on the other side of the door."

Chloe nodded, but said, "I think she's a little nervous about talking to you. She's had a rough day, I think, and her mother hitting her was not exactly a great ending."

Lucifer paused. "She did what?" he queried, startled. "Are you certain?" He drew himself up, then, brows lowering. "Her mother," he echoed. "How did that come up?"

"I saw it," Chloe confirmed. "She nearly knocked Rae off her feet. I have to call it in. As for how I found out, Rae told me." Chloe pursed her lips. "Lucifer, I don't understand why you didn't just tell me that Charlotte is your stepmother."

Lucifer shook his head. "Call it in," he echoed, ignoring the rest for now. He looked up briefly as Maze roared up on her motorcycle, gaze following the demon as she took in the situation, dismissed it, and headed for the door.

Chloe nodded, her expression grim. "I have to report child abuse."

"I suppose that's what it would be, as she's in the body of a child just now," Lucifer mused, sotto voce. Noting Chloe's baffled look, he added, "Could you let me talk to Mu-ah, Rae's mother first, Detective? I don't see police action going over at all well with her."

Brows lifting, Chloe said tightly, "Things going over well with her, that's not exactly my priority."

"Yes, but it's just not like her," Lucifer explained. "She's more of an emotional manipulator. Physical violence isn't really her style."

"That's not much better," Chief observed with a headshake. She frowned a little, expression going thoughtful. "Charlotte did seem surprised at herself," she said, if reluctantly. "And Rae said that it was the first time anything like that had happened."

Lucifer inclined his head. "So you'll let me speak with her before you take further action?"

Chloe nodded, though she still seemed rather unwilling. "Tonight?"

Lucifer nodded.

"So why keep it a secret that she's your stepmother?" Chloe asked. "I mean, if nothing else, I would have been more likely to believe that you hadn't slept with her."

"More likely?" Lucifer protested. "You think I'd have sex with my-my father's wife? Well, ex-wife."

"Having seen your father's ex-wife..." Chloe didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear. "Besides, it's not like you're brimming over with affection for your dad."

Lucifer inclined his head. "Fair point, but even I wouldn't go that far." A shudder wracked his body. "I get chills just thinking about it-and not in a good way."

Chloe sighed, perhaps deciding that, as with so many other things she simply wasn't going to get a straight answer from Lucifer on the topic. Switching gears, she said, "One of the librarians said something odd, while I was asking her about Rae."

"What did she say?" Lucifer queried. "Did she want you to up your cardigan game?"

"What? No. She wasn't even wearing a-" Chloe shook her head, trying to get back on track. "She was concerned about some of the books Rae has been reading."

Lucifer looked a little disappointed. "Well, that's boring."

Expression exasperated, Chloe asked, "Do you even know what Rae's been reading lately?"

"I can hardly keep up, now, can I?" Lucifer queried, looking a little amused. "There was that one on the Apocalypse that she said was funny, and I know she was looking at some Ancient Egyptian thing where a man was talking to his own soul. Oh, and the serial killer book, mustn't forget that one."

Chloe closed her mouth, staring at Lucifer in silence for a moment. "That doesn't concern you at all? That's not really what normal eleven year-olds are reading."

"And if she were a normal eleven year-old, maybe I would be concerned," Lucifer replied, with thin patience. "But she isn't. I've mentioned it before; I'm quite certain."

Looking a little frustrated, Chloe demanded, "And what makes her so-" She cut off her own words and looked up suddenly, gaze sharpening and moving to the windows. "I swear, if she climbs out that window..."

"You'll what?" Lucifer queried, head tipping slightly to one side as he regarded Chloe. "Don't you think you're being just a touch hypocritical, Detective?"

Chloe's shocked stare was an obvious negative.

"Well," Lucifer continued, warming to his subject, "You wouldn't let me buy your offspring that doll-and, I might add, the charming little chocolate cake-because you didn't want me interfering in your misguided attempt to teach her a lesson. Yet here you go sticking your oar in with my sister."

Hackles rising a little, Chloe replied, "Lucifer, I've been at this a lot longer than you have."

"Right," Lucifer agreed. "With young Beatrice, who, while she's a canny little minx, is a very different individual from Azrael. Rae's been playing along with you, probably because it amuses her. But she isn't actually your responsibility, and she knows it."

Chloe's jaw worked briefly as she considered her response. Finally, her shoulders relaxed a bit and she nodded. "But if you need help..." she began, a little tentatively.

Lucifer smiled. "You'll be the first person I ask, on my honor. And I do appreciate your good intentions. That ridiculous saying is totally wrong about the road to Hell, by the way. Now can we please go inside so I can assure my sister that I'm not going to eat her for breakfast? It would also be good to get off the street. One of your neighbors has been peeking out her curtains at me."

Chloe turned to the door with a smile. "Well, you're clearly up to no good," she teased. "She probably thinks you're looking for trouble."

"Any chance I get," Lucifer agreed cheerfully, following Chloe through the door.

Dan clicked off the television as the pair entered. "Hey," he greeted them. "The girls are upstairs."

"Thanks, Dan," Chloe replied, with a smile. "I really appreciate the help."

Turning to Lucifer on his way out, Dan added, with a rueful grin, "Your kid sister is quite a character. Interesting sense of humor."

Lucifer grinned as the door closed behind Dan. "I'll have to find out the story behind that one," he observed, following Chloe upstairs.

The pair paused in Trixie's doorway. The two girls were both fast asleep, Azrael on her back, The Graveyard Book open on her chest, and Trixie curled against her side.

"Well," Lucifer said lightly, "So much for that conversation. Still, this isn't a bad thing. She doesn't sleep much. Mind if we don't wake her?"

"Of course I don't mind," Chloe replied, her tone emphatic, though quiet. "That's pretty much rule number one: if the kid is asleep and doesn't need to be awake, let her sleep." She moved silently into the room and carefully lifted the book from Azrael's chest, tucking in a bookmark and setting it on the table. She took a folded blanket from the foot of the bed. "Give me a hand?"

Lucifer inclined his head and stepped into the room. Moving to take his end of the blanket, he fumbled a bit. His hand brushed Chloe's, and he moved just a little closer. For a moment, Chloe almost moved closer as well, but then she stepped back, a little flustered, and moved to spread the blanket over the girls, Lucifer holding up his end, and then Chloe switched off the light.

Perhaps it was the movement of the blanket, but Azrael stirred, her eyes opening, one hand instinctively coming up between Lucifer and Trixie. She blinked up at her brother, eyes clouded with sleep and the confusion of waking in a strange place.

"It's all right," Lucifer murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Go back to sleep."

For a wonder, Azrael did, her eyes sinking closed once more.

Lucifer and Chloe slipped out of the room, Chloe easing the door nearly shut behind them. "I suppose I'll come get her tomorrow?" Lucifer suggested. When Chloe nodded, he smiled, a but grimly. "Much as I'd love to stay for a sleepover of my own, I've a visit to make."

* * *

"Mommy?"

Chloe inhaled sharply, opening her eyes to find her daughter leaning on the side of her bed. The little girl looked concerned and a bit distressed.

"What is it, Monkey?" Chloe asked, summoning alertness.

Trixie gripped the edge of her mother's comforter, twisting it in one hand. Reluctantly, she said, "Rae's gone.


	19. Chapter 19

**Author's note: This is a bit rushed; I wanted to get something out because I'm over the moon about season 3!**

 **I will return to Azrael and where she went in the next chapter, which will hopefully not take too long. I've been bouncing between this and two other chapters, so there is at least a bit of the next one written.**

 **I definitely appreciate reviews, and am trying to to be better about posting them for the fanfic I read. (There's been some great stuff lately!) If you don't review here, I hope you review something. :)**

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Lucifer's expression was grim as he waited for Charlotte to open the front door at Richardson and Wheeler. "Thanks for agreeing to this, Mum," he said tightly.

"I'm always glad to see one of my children," Charlotte replied, though her smile was drawn and a bit tired. She led Lucifer down the hall to her office and sat down on the couch, patting the seat next to her.

Lucifer shook his head, moving to stand at the window behind Charlotte's desk.

Charlotte took off first one shoe and then the other. "I should have done that hours ago," she said with a sigh.

"Long day?" Lucifer asked, though his tone held a certain bite.

Charlotte sighed once more. "You have no idea. These humans and their problems... sometimes it can just get to be too much."

Lucifer turned, his expression dangerous. "So you took it out on Rae?"

Expression guilty, Charlotte asked, "She told you?" She paused. "Well, that was quick."

"No, Mother," Lucifer replied tartly. "Do you want to know who told me? The detective did; she wants to report you for child abuse."

Charlotte looked blankly at Lucifer. "But Azrael isn't a child."

Lucifer gave his mother an exasperated look. "That's not the point, Mum. The point is that you hit her, hard enough to bruise, even. She's in a mortal body, or had you forgotten? You hurt her, and you could have done her serious harm."

Charlotte slumped back against the couch. "I didn't mean to," she replied. "Rae was in one of her moods. You know how she gets."

Lucifer took two quick steps toward the couch, his eyes flaring red. "Did you seriously just blame Rae for you hitting her."

"No," Charlotte backpedaled quickly. "No. I shouldn't have done it, and I'm truly sorry. It happened so quickly, and I didn't intend..."

"You have to fix this, Mother," Lucifer insisted.

Charlotte nodded. "I will," she promised. Expression rueful, she added, "Apparently she gets her temper from me. I am wondering what set her off, though." Her tone was carefully casual. "She doesn't usually blow up like that."

"Well, that would be me," Lucifer admitted, turning back to the window. "We had a bit of a dustup earlier. She said-well, what she said doesn't matter, as she was dead wrong." He paused a moment at the phrase, and shook his head.

Charlotte got to her feet and moved to stand next to Lucifer. She rested a hand lightly on his arm. "And you got upset with her?"

Lucifer looked at his mother's hand, then lifted his gaze to her face. "Well, yes, but she with me as well. It was more of a mutual upset. She said some things, I said some things, and then she left."

After a moment, Charlotte removed her hand. "Did one of the things you said involve Azrael's blade?"

"Actually, yes," Lucifer replied. "That was probably part of what got to her." He sighed and moved to sit on the couch. "Or possibly it was that I said I thought that dear old Dad would forget her here."

Charlotte watched, but remained by the window. "Oh, Lucifer." Her voice was quiet and held a hint of reproof.

"Well, how can we know, Mother?" Lucifer demanded. "It's not like he makes his wishes known these days! And he didn't even have the courtesy to tell Rae to her face that he was sending her here. He had Michael do it." His scorn for his brother was clear. "And she keeps trying so hard to get the old bastard to answer her. She's even gone to church, Mum."

Charlotte crossed to sit next to Lucifer, her bare feet silent on the floor. "Son, you know I'm hardly your father's biggest fan."

Lucifer made a short, indelicate sound. "Well there, at least, we are in agreement."

Charlotte smiled. "But I do think he's paying attention. No, hear me out," she added, as Lucifer's expression turned derisive. "I'll come back to Lux with you to talk with Azrael. When I do, look at the two of us. Your father made her look like my human fleshsack. He's clearly aware of something. It must have worked, sending the humans after Azrael's blade."

"I'll thank you not to say that to Rae, Mother," Lucifer said sharply. He studied Charlotte's face closely, and she preened, if a bit self-consciously. "She's not at Lux, actually... though I do see your point. It goes beyond the coloring."

Charlotte's brows lifted. "Not at Lux? Have you lost her again already?"

Sounding exasperated, Lucifer said, "She's not a set of cufflinks that rolled behind the dresser, Mum. In point of fact, she's at the detective's house for the night."

Brows lifting, Charlotte observed, "I never would have thought that your sister would end up staying over there before you did. Is she having sex? I could give her some tips..."

Lucifer stared at his mother for a long moment before he was taken by a whole-body shudder. Raising his hands in a warding gesture, he said, "There is so much wrong in what you just said that I can't even begin to explain it, so I will just say no. No, she is not. She's befriended the detective's daughter. Finds her amusing, I think. And she's promised me cake, though if she's still annoyed with me, she may go back on her word. "

"Oh." Apparently dismissing thoughts of mother-daughter bonding over sex advice, Charlotte sighed.

Wanting distance, both conversational and geographical, Lucifer stood, meandering to the window once more. "Did you know that she spoke to Dad on my behalf?" His voice was distant. Looking over his shoulder at his mother, he added, "After he kicked me out, I mean."

Charlotte nodded. "I was there," she said, smiling fondly. "I wish you could have seen it, son. She spoke so passionately. Your father didn't take it for the filing loyalty that I saw... though I can't entirely blame him."

Lucifer turned, intrigued. "What did she say to piss off dear old Dad? She told me she was polite and respectful."

"Oh, the conversation started out that way," Charlotte agreed, her expression reflective, though her blue eyes held a trace of amusement. "When your father didn't hear her out, well, she raised her voice to him. It probably would have gotten unpleasant if Uriel hadn't hurried her out."

"Did she, now?" Lucifer queried, delighted. "She didn't tell me that."

Charlotte tipped her head in an affirmative gesture, brows lifting, an ever-so-slightly smug smile crossing her lips.

"And that's really why he made her the Angel of Death?" Lucifer queried.

Charlotte nodded once more. "He was a little... wary of rebellious offspring at that point. Wanted to keep her occupied. And, well, he never really favored Azrael. If she was here looking after his toys, she wouldn't be in the Silver City."

Lucifer nodded thoughtfully, though his expression was a little sad. "Out of sight, out of mind, eh? Until he got upset about Uriel and sent her here."

Charlotte started to ease on one of her shoes. "I've been thinking about that, actually. Azrael's part in all that was so small. Your father's reaction seems out of proportion, even for him."

Frowning, Lucifer asked, " What, you think he sent her here for some other reason? She seems convinced that she's being punished."

"I'm sure she believes that," Charlotte agreed, pulling on her other shoe with a faint grimace. "But, you know, your father works in mysterious ways."

Seeing his mother preparing to depart, Lucifer moved to the door as well. "That's not exactly reassuring, Mum," he observed wryly. "But don't forget-fix things with Rae, and soon."

Charlotte simply nodded and watched her son's departure, her face gone serious.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's note: This picks up right after the end of chapter 18.**

* * *

Chloe got to her feet, trying to seem more awake than she was. "Okay," she said, with a reassuring smile for Trixie. "Let's just take a look around and see if we can figure out what happened, yeah?" She moved down the hall to Trixie's room. "Her backpack is still here. Did you check the bathroom?"

Trixie nodded, her eyes wide. "She's not in there," she reported.

"Hey," Chloe said, pulling Trixie close for a moment. "It's okay. Let's go look downstairs." She glanced at the windows: locked. There was that, at least.

With another nod, Trixie headed for the stairs, though her pace lacked her usual zip.

Chloe followed, her attention caught by the book on the table near the couch. "There's that book Rae was reading last night, so she must have come down here."

Considering the book, Trixie observed, "Rae said you had to read me that one, because of the beginning, but we read the bat book." Her lips curved just a little. "Three times."

"Well, that's such a fun one, no wonder." Chloe replied, with a smile.

Just then, a key rattled in the front door, though it took a few moments for the door to open. Azrael, looking windblown and cheerful, breezed in with a cloth bag looped over one shoulder, singing half under her breath, "Even if we can't find Heaven, I'll walk through-hello." Her pleasant smile turned puzzled as she took in the twin stares that greeted her. "Everything all right?"

"Where were you?" Trixie asked, bounding curiously over to her friend.

Azrael moved to put the bag on the breakfast bar, pulling out chocolate, butter, and other sundries. "What with everything that happened yesterday, I didn't get a chance to get supplies for our cake," she explained. "Mazikeen was early for yoga with Dr. Martin-I'll have to ask Lucifer if Hell has _actually_ frozen over-and she gave me a lift. Forget the horse," she added with enthusiasm, "I want a _motorcycle_." Looking between Chloe and Trixie, she added, "Didn't you get my message?"

"You've got a horse?" Trixie asked Azrael, eyes wide with incipient glee, or possibly with Azrael's use of the h-word.

Azrael shook her head. "It's kind of a metaphorical horse," she explained. Trixie looked unenlightened, and perhaps a bit disappointed.

Moving to join Azrael at the breakfast bar, Chloe saw the note the girl had indicated. Picking it up, she observed the copperplate handwriting, its elegance undiminished by the green marker and loose-leaf paper that had been used to create it. It related what Azrael had explained: gone to the grocery store with Mazikeen, back soon.

Scooting in next to her mother, Trixie peered at the note, puzzling over the ornate writing. "What language is that?"

Azrael blinked. "English. Thought about Sumerian, for kicks," she added, tone jesting, "but paper's no good for cuneiform."

"What's kyoo-?" Trixie stumbled over the word.

"Really old writing," Azrael replied. "They did it on clay tablets. You pressed into the clay with a reed and made marks. Definitely wouldn't work on paper."

Trixie offered, "I've got some play-doh," and was off rooting in her art supplies.

Chloe looked up from the note. "Trix was a little worried when she woke up and you were gone," she said, her tone mild.

"Sorry about that," Azrael replied easily. "I didn't want to wake anybody; that seemed rude. Maybe I should have left the note somewhere more visible, but Mazikeen was ready to go and I didn't want to keep her waiting."

Chloe chuckled. "No, I wouldn't, either." She smoothed one hand over the note. "You have lovely handwriting. I don't know if they even teach cursive in schools anymore, let alone writing like this."

Azrael's shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "Thanks."

Finally, Chloe asked, "Sumerian? Cuneiform?" Azrael regarded her with wide-eyed innocence, and Chloe continued, "Your brother said you're not a normal eleven year-old. You really aren't, are you?"

Azrael's gaze narrowed a little, her head tipping to one side. She considered Chloe for a long moment, hesitating. Pulling on a smile, she shook her head. "Not really," she agreed.

Before Chloe could ask more questions, Trixie made her way back to the breakfast bar. "The play-doh's all dried out," she reported with a sigh.

Azrael turned to Trixie, smiling. "That's all right. We can look it up on the internet."

Chloe took Azrael's note and tucked it away before turning to both girls with a smile. "How about breakfast first? Rae, do you like eggs?"

Several hours passed pleasantly with food and play, baking and stories. Looking up Sumerian naturally led to Azrael telling Trixie an abbreviated, kid-friendly version of the Epic of Gilgamesh. Though Chloe initially raised an eyebrow, she was drawn into the story as well, even setting aside her laptop to listen.

After lunch, with the chocolate cake cooling and waiting for assembly, Chloe went upstairs, leaving Azrael and Trixie to their own devices.

Soon, the doorbell rang and Trixie sprang to answer it. "Maybe it's Lucifer," she suggested cheerfully.

It was, in fact, Azrael's mother who waited at the door: tall, imposing, and not, to Trixie's mind, someone who would appreciate a hug.

"Trixie, come away," Azrael called, her voice low but commanding. It was not the sort of voice one usually hears in an eleven year-old, and Trixie took notice, scurrying to her friend's side. "Go on up to your mother, please," Azrael added, though her eyes did not leave Charlotte.

Trixie, looking between the two, protested uneasily, "I think she's in the shower."

Azrael turned. She crouched a little, though it didn't take much to put her head on a level with Trixie's. "Go wait in her room for me? It's okay," she reassured. "It's just my mother."

Trixie nodded, though her disquiet made her drag her feet. Halfway up the stairs, she turned to announce boldly to Charlotte, "You're not the boss of Rae!" She dashed up the rest of the stairs, disappearing down the hall.

"Loyal little bug, isn't she?" Charlotte observed, coming into the apartment and closing the door behind her.

Azrael turned to regard her mother, her expression wary. "You'll leave her alone," she informed Charlotte. It was not a question.

Charlotte took in the room, moving to the breakfast bar. "Of course," she replied, her tone implying that Trixie wasn't really even worth considering anyway. "If I'd intended harm, I wouldn't have rung the bell."

"That's not exactly reassuring," Azrael observed lightly.

Catching sight of the remains of lunch, Charlotte paused. "She made you cheesy noodles?" she queried, an odd note to her voice.

"I suppose," Azrael replied, tone both puzzled and impatient. "She called it macaroni and cheese. Mother, why are you here?"

After studying the bowls for a moment longer, Charlotte turned to her daughter. "To fix what happened last night," she replied, smiling.

Azrael's gaze dropped for a moment, then returned to her mother. "It's not that simple."

Charlotte crossed to the couch and patted the seat next to her. "Of course it is. Come here."

"I'm not a dog, Mother," Azrael replied, though she did move to sit as requested, brows lifting.

Charlotte studied her daughter's face. "I shouldn't have done that," she said quietly. "I'm sorry." She reached to cup Azrael's cheek with her hand, and her brows furrowed when the girl flinched away. "Hold still a moment."

Azrael acquiesced in silent wariness, and Charlotte ran the back of her hand lightly along her daughter's bruised face. Azrael inhaled sharply, her eyes widening. "What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Fixing it," Charlotte replied. She brushed her thumb along the now-unblemished cheek and smiled. "Better?" Taking in Azrael's poleaxed expression, the added, "It didn't hurt, did it? It wasn't supposed to hurt."

"No," Azrael replied, her eyes squeezing closed. "Just... give me a minute."

Charlotte watched in concern as Azrael gulped a few short breaths, then finally opened her eyes. "Are you all right?"

Azrael nodded gingerly, then moved slightly so she could see her reflection in a nearby mirror. She touched her cheek, then turned to Charlotte, still looking stunned. "How is this possible?"

Charlotte smiled archly. "I can't be contained by a mortal body, apparently. I've been regaining my abilities."

"I... I suppose that makes sense." Azrael gave herself a small shake. "That felt... very odd."She lifted a hand to her cheek again. "Warm, and then... I don't know. Like I was flying, but I wasn't in control. Still a little dizzy." She turned to her mother, her heart in her eyes. "Before, at Lux, you said you couldn't change what Dad did to me. But now?"

Charlotte tucked a lock of Azrael's hair behind her ear. "I'm sorry," she replied softly. "Not yet. Maybe, if my power continues to grow, or if we're able to go home, I'll be able to do something."

Azrael drooped, and Charlotte rested a tentative hand on her daughter's arm. "I'm sorry," Charlotte repeated. "For that, and for last night."

Azrael leaned lightly against her mother, closing her eyes. "Thanks, Mom," she murmured. "What I said last night..."

"Shh." Charlotte curled an arm around her daughter. "You were upset. I understand."

Azrael pulled back a little, looking up at Charlotte." I'm still upset," she admitted. "You really led them to my blade just to try to get Dad's attention?"

Charlotte hesitated over her answer. "I was upset about Uriel," she said finally. "I wanted to mourn with your father. I thought..." She didn't finish.

Azrael sighed. "Well, that kind of backfired." Her expression softening, she added quietly, "I miss him, too, Mom. I can't really talk about it it with Lucifer, I think. It's easier here, though. Not so many reminders as there would be at home."

"I can understand that," Charlotte said carefully. "You do still want to go home, though, don't you, Azrael?"

Azrael nodded. "Of course," she said slowly. "But it's not all bad here, now that I'm used to-" She gestured at herself. "Well, this."

"And you choose to spend your time here?" Charlotte queried. "With this detective?"

Azrael laughed, shaking her head. "No, with Trixie." At Charlotte's look of incomprehension, she said, "What, I shouldn't like her because she's a child? Mom, I'm millenia older than any human on this planet. They're all children, relatively. What difference does a few years make? Besides, there are few enough advantages to this body; I might as well enjoy being a kid. And," she added, with a thoughtful smile, "there's something special about Trixie. I can't quite put my finger on it, but..." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug.

Still looking a little dubious, Charlotte said, "As long as you are enjoying yourself, sweetheart."

Azrael smiled. "Mostly, I am."

Just then, the sound of footsteps came from the stairs: Chloe, her hair still wet, with Trixie several paces behind her. "Counselor," she greeted, taking in the scene before her. "What a surprise."

Charlotte pulled Azrael a little closer, an unsubtly possessive gesture that drew an amused look from the girl. "Detective," she replied. "Just stopped by to see my daughter. Thank you for looking after her."

"You're welcome," Chloe said, coming to a stop at the bottom of of the stairs. "She's a pleasure."

Charlotte smiled, brushing Azrael's hair away from her face. "She is," she agreed. Turning back to Chloe, she added seriously, "What you saw last night will not happen again. It shouldn't have happened at all. I came to tell Azrael that."

Chloe nodded, though her gaze flicked to Azrael before she answered. When the girl smiled, Chloe said, "I'm very glad to hear that."

Charlotte got to her feet, giving Azrael's shoulder a quick squeeze. "I need to be going. Azrael, would you like a ride to Lux or to... well, wherever it is you go these days?"

There was a rather palpable pause, and then we shook her head. "No, thanks. Lucifer's coming by later, I think. Besides," she added, with a quick grin to Trixie, "we still have to finish our cake."

Looking perhaps a little miffed, Charlotte made her way to the door. "I'll talk to you soon," she told Azrael, receiving a pleasant nod of assent before she exited.

Chloe followed and locked the door before turning to Azrael. "Are you okay?"

Azrael nodded, though she was a little slow to get to her feet. "Oh, sure," she replied. "Sorry she just showed up like that. That was really weird."

Trixie came the rest of the way down the steps. "Rae, that mark on your face is gone. Did your mommy put makeup on it or something?"

"Or something," Azrael agreed, expression going distant for a moment. She shook her head, then, and headed into the kitchen. "Come on, let's see if the cake us cool enough yet that we can frost it."

That was an easy distraction for Trixie. Chloe, though, watched Azrael thoughtfully as the girls worked in the kitchen.

* * *

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	21. Chapter 21

**Author's note: Sorry for the delay. This is, at least, a longer chapter.**

 **I appreciate all the reviews on the last chapter, especially from those of you who responded in verse! They were so much fun!**

* * *

Azrael closed the bathroom door behind herself, the sound of Trixie and Chloe's laughter fading, and exhaled a long breath. She stepped to the mirror and studied her face, prodding gently at the spot that had been bruised. She poked a little harder, then shook her head and moved to sit on the toilet. She pulled up her jeans to reveal the two Star Wars Band-Aids on her knee, which she pulled off after a moment of hesitation. "Well," she murmured, running one finger over the unmarked skin. "Looks like she overshot a bit there."

Leaning against the back of the toilet, she took a deep breath, then another, before pushing up her left sleeve past her elbow. That skin, too, was clear. Azrael rubbed her arm, hand trembling, then adjusted her clothing. She took another breath, then got to her feet. After one final glance in the mirror, she left the bathroom once more.

Trixie and Chloe were on the couch watching a movie, but Azrael moved to join Mazikeen at the breakfast bar. The demon was nearly finished her cake. "This is good," she said, though a little grudgingly.

"Thanks," Azrael replied. She added, without preamble, "I want to tell him."

Mazikeen looked skeptical, her slashed eyebrow lifting. "You sure about that, Tiny Death?"

Azrael's eyes widened, and she tilted her head toward Chloe and Trixie. "You're seriously calling me that? With them in the room?"

"They're not paying attention," Maze replied. "So why tell him now, after all this time?"

Azrael picked up her fork and pulled her plate closer. "You're okay with me telling? I wanted to check first. Don't want to get on your bad side, especially in my current state." She waved the fork at herself, then poked at her own cake.

"Maybe you're not so stupid after all," Maze commented, smirking. "It's fine, though. I was just doing my job. He won't be pissed off at me."

"Gee, thanks," Azrael muttered. "As for why..." She hesitated over her answer, then shot a quick sidelong look at the demon. "So yesterday my mother hit me-left a bruise, just here." She touched the spot on her cheek."

Maze used her finger to scoop up the last of the frosting from her plate. "Well, we both know that you're shit at ducking," she observed, licking the frosting from her finger. "Even before you ended up in that body."

Azrael looked sharply at the demon, then over at the two on the couch: still watching the movie. "Yes, I know that, thank you. Maybe you can teach me," she added, with a touch of sarcasm, "and then I'll figure out how to duck."

"Good idea," Maze agreed. She nodded at Azrael's plate. "You going to finish that?"

Azrael considered her cake, then shook her head and slid the plate to Maze. "To get to my point-"

"Finally." Maze started on the last of Azrael's cake.

Azrael sighed. "Mom came over here this afternoon. She-" She lowered her voice. "She healed it. Not just the bruise; I had a cut on my knee, and it's gone. And the scar from, well... it's gone."

Maze looked impressed. "There was a scar?"

Azrael nodded, a little impatient. "Did you miss the whole healing thing?"

"No." Maze finished Azrael's cake, visibly pondered more, then shook her head. "So Momma's getting her powers back, huh? Yeah, Lucifer will want to know about it. Okay, let's go."

Azrael's eyes widened and she swallowed. "What, right _now_?" She glanced over to Chloe and Trixie, then back to Maze. "On the motorcycle?" She hesitated, then asked, brows lowering in suspicion, "Are you trying to tempt me?"

Maze smirked, "And it's working, right, TD?" With an eyeroll, she added, "It's just a ride on a motorcycle. Your father can't object to that. You're paranoid."

"You'd be surprised what my father could object to," Azrael observed. Maze just looked at her, and Azrael shook her head. "Okay, maybe you wouldn't."

"Hey, Decker," Maze called, and Chloe paused the movie, turning. "I'm taking the kid back to Lux. She wants to talk to Lucifer."

"Kid, really?" Azrael murmured.

"Look in a mirror, TD," Maze replied. "as far as they know, that's what you are."

After farewells had been made, including a promise to Trixie to get together again soon, Maze and Azrael made their way back to Lux. The club had not yet opened, and Lucifer sat at the bar. By prior arrangement, Maze moved to the other end of the bar, reaching to pour a drink. Azrael, though, sat near Lucifer, one stool between them.

"Decided to come back, did you?" Lucifer queried, though not without a curious look for Maze.

Azrael put her backpack on the bar next to her and rummaged in it a moment before pulling out a Tupperware container. She put the container on the bar and nudged it toward Lucifer, expression tight and a little wary.

Lucifer, brows lifting, took the Tupperware. "A bribe? Unnecessary, but thank you." He opened the container and the rich, near-intoxicating chocolate aroma spilled out as the thick wedge of cake was revealed. The top was decorated with a paper drawing taped to a toothpick: a devil, complete with horns, tail, and pitchfork.

Azrael ducked her head, but couldn't quite hide her smile. "Trixie's idea," she explained, sending a sidelong look at her brother, gauging his reaction.

"Well, that's not accurate at all." Lucifer's protest was mild, and he added, "At least you saved me some cake. Wasn't sure you would, all things considered." He turned to face his sister and queried, "Are you all right, then? The detective said Mum nearly knocked you off your feet."

Azrael nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "I'm okay. Thanks."

"Slapped the temper right out of you, did she? I'll have to remember that, next time you get like that," Lucifer added, his tone deceptively light.

With a brief shake of her head, Azrael said, "I wish you wouldn't. It was... profoundly unpleasant."

Lucifer leaned closer, studying Azrael's face. "Doesn't seem to have done you any lasting harm, though. It looked a lot worse last night."

In response to Lucifer's motion, Azrael edged back. "Wait," she said suddenly. "Last night. Were you really in Trixie's room? I thought that was a dream."

Lucifer nodded, confirming his presence. "You looked... cute."

"I did not!" Azrael protested. She shook her head, then, looking like she was making an effort to relax. "Look," she began, "about yesterday..."

Lucifer waited. Azrael shifted in her seat, but didn't speak.

With an exasperated sound from the other end of the bar, Maze called, "This will go a lot more quickly if you actually talk to him, TD." She slid a drink down the bar and Azrael caught it without looking, then glanced down at it in surprise.

"TD?" Lucifer queried.

Azrael sighed. "Tiny Death."

"Sounds like some vile illness."

"I'm not telling her that," Azrael murmured. "That may be her intent."

Lucifer raised his voice enough to carry. "Maze, are you going to join us?"

Maze poured another drink, this one for herself. "Not yet."

Lucifer turned back to his sister.

Azrael considered her drink for a moment, then tossed it back, with a grimace for its strength. She took a deep breath, then spoke slowly, carefully. "It looks like there are maybe some things that we just can't talk about." Lucifer started to protest, but Azrael shook her head. "You lost your temper," she explained, with a vague gesture toward Lucifer's eyes. "It was one thing for you to do that when I was, well, in my previous incarnation, but now?" Her shoulders lifted slightly, not quite a shrug. "Fragile mortal body. So I'll be more careful. I'm sorry that I upset you."

Lucifer looked at Azrael for a long moment, his expression serious. "Rae, I wouldn't have hurt you, even if you'd stayed."

Still choosing her words carefully, Azrael observed, "Recent experience suggests that prudence is the better course here."

Lucifer shook his head, expression frustrated. "No," he said sharply. "Rae, you can talk to me. You don't need to... to _coddle_ me, like I'm an infant."

Azrael gave her brother a long look. "Okay," she said slowly, turning to catch Maze's eye. The demon swung her legs over to land on the other side of the bar, moving to join the siblings.

"Have you suborned my demon?" Lucifer queried, brows lifting.

With another headshake, Azrael replied, "Mazikeen does what she wants."

"Damn straight," Maze agreed.

"Anyway," Azrael said, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Mom came by today, while I was at Chloe's place." Seeing the look from Maze, she amended, "Chloe and Mazikeen's place."

Lucifer rocked back a bit on his stool. "I told her to fix things with you, but I didn't intend for her to do anything so quickly," he admitted. "Though she left me the oddest voicemail-something about noodles-that suddenly makes a little more sense."

"Luci, could you focus, please?" Azrael's voice was mild. "The reason my face looks better is that Mom healed it. She just touched me and... it was incredible."

Maze murmured, "I never thought it would happen to me..." Smirking at Azrael's irritated look, she drawled, "Not my fault you're making it sound like porn." Seeing the siblings' near-identical expressions of disgust, she exhaled a short bark of laughter.

Azrael rubbed her eyes, then continued the motion to pinch the bridge of her nose before turning to look at Lucifer.

"So she healed a bruise," he said thoughtfully. "That would have been child's play for her, back in the day. Now, though..."

Azrael hesitated. Maze, with an exasperated huff, poured her another drink. "Is that your solution to everything?" Azrael queried, though she did pull the glass closer.

"The only one _you'd_ be willing to try," Maze replied archly.

Azrael closed her eyes for a moment, perhaps counting to ten, then turned to her brother. "Remember how I'm not coddling you, and you're not, well, smiting me?"

"I don't remember that bit, but go ahead," Lucifer replied.

Azrael shifted on her seat. Perhaps coincidentally, that put just a bit more space between herself and her brother. "Remember how I hadn't been by to visit in a while, back when you were in Hell? Well, there's actually a reason for that."

Lucifer's brows lifted. "Though you said you lost track of time. You do tend to do that, after all."

"Right," Azrael agreed quickly. "I did say that, and it's absolutely the truth. Just not quite all of the truth."

Lucifer waited out his sister's apparent struggle for words with visibly fraying patience. Finally, Mazikeen poured him a drink and explained, "She tried to get in to see Mommy Dearest. Almost made it, too, but I stopped her."

"You took on the Angel of Death and won?" Lucifer queried, sounding impressed. "Bravo, Maze." Noting the rather indignant look he was receiving from his sister, Lucifer turned to her. "I seem to recall asking you not to have any contact with Mother."

"You did," Azrael agreed, her expression smoothing to wariness.

Lucifer inclined his head. "And yet you did it anyway?"

Azrael nodded. She flicked a quick look to Maze, then, with a look that implied that future-Azrael would likely regret her actions, gulped her drink. "Brother," she said, her voice quiet but intent, "I understand that you didn't want to be around her, but she's my mother, too. I needed to see her."

Lucifer explained, in a sing-song voice that was a little too patient, "But she was in Hell, Azrael. You don't get visitors in Hell."

Maze snagged a nearby container of cocktail peanuts and took a handful, watching with all apparent amusement.

"Lucifer, please don't condescend to me. Even though I look young, you know I'm-" Azrael cut off her words and dropped her gaze a moment, taking a deep breath. "The point of this ridiculous confession is that Mazikeen left a reasonably gruesome scar on my arm, and it's gone as well. Mom healed it without even knowing that it was there. I'm... well, I'm not really sure what it means, but it must mean something."

Lucifer listened with compressed lips, then turned to Mazikeen. "You marked my sister?"

Maze shrugged, unconcerned, and took another handful of peanuts. "An arm. It was nothing. Did you _want_ her to get to your mother?"

After a shrug of acknowledgement, Lucifer turned back to Azrael, asking, "Why didn't you go to Raphael? Our brother could have seen to it."

"I did," Azrael replied quietly. "He'd been instructed to leave the scar. A reminder, I suppose."

"Wow," Maze said brightly. "Your dad really is a dick, isn't he?"

What Azrael did not say could have filled a book. After a rather profound pause, she turned to her brother. "Make of this what you will," she said, sounding tired. "I'm going up." She slid down from her seat, wobbling a little as she landed.

Lucifer was on his feet in a flash, bracing Azrael and helping her regain her balance. "Right, I'll walk you up."

For a moment, it looked like Azrael would refuse, but then she nodded. "Thanks. Those drinks were strong. Oh-don't forget the cake," she added. "If you leave it here, Mazikeen will eat it."

Maze did not deny it. "It's good cake. We done here, TD?"

As Lucifer collected his baked goods, Azrael carefully pulled on her backpack. "Yes, thank you," she replied.

Lucifer took his sister's arm, guiding her up the stairs and then into the elevator. When they reached the penthouse, Azrael moved to sit on the couch, pulling off the backpack and letting it drop to the ground.

Lucifer moved to join her. "I have some things to say to you." With a brief smile, he added, "Will you remember them?"

"I'm not so bad off as all that," Azrael replied, sitting up straight, expression serious.

Lucifer studied his sister for a moment. "I'm still not used to you being... this," he said, with a gesture indicating her form.

"Try living it," Azrael replied, with a wry little smile. "I've finally stopped doing a double-take when I catch my reflection. Well, mostly."

"Fair point." Lucifer continued his regard of his sister, long enough that she began to look uncomfortable.

"If you ask me what I desire," Azrael said, mimicking Lucifer's hypnotic tone, "I'm taking back the cake. Plus, you already know."

"Taking back a gift is rude," Lucifer protested. "Besides, you don't even like chocolate."

Azrael agreed, with an ironic smile, "I'm more of an angel food fan, yes."

"Of course you are." Lucifer returned the smile, though his expression grew serious. "Why didn't you just use your blade on Maze, back in Hell?" he asked finally.

Azrael shifted back against the couch. "I didn't have it," she admitted. "I'd stopped taking it there... oh, I don't know how long ago. Worried about it getting into the wrong hands. It's kind of ironic, though; I'm pretty sure that I was in Hell when Uriel took my blade." Speaking just a little more slowly, she added, "I wouldn't have used it, though, even if I'd had it."

Curious, Lucifer queried, "Whyever not? Seems like it would have solved your problem."

Azrael shook her head. "In the short term, yes, but destroying Mazikeen, uh, would not have endeared me to you." After a brief hesitation, she added, with a touch of chagrin, "And I wouldn't have wanted to take her from you. You had few enough comforts in Hell." Shoulders lifting, she added, "As it turns out, I'm glad I didn't."

Startled, Lucifer asked, "Are you and Maze friends now?"

Expression dubious, Azrael replied, "Friend-ly, more like. Sort of. She makes jokes at my expense; I use her for her motorcycle. Fair trade, I guess."

"Well, as long as you're not actively trying to murder each other, that's good," Lucifer observed.

Azrael nodded. "She'd win," she said succinctly.

Lucifer chuckled, but didn't deny the statement. "I spoke with Mum last night, by the way. Care to explain why the detective thinks that she's my stepmother?"

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Azrael explained, "I didn't specifically mention your relationship with Mom, just mine. Chloe showed up right about the time things went off the rails with Mom. It wasn't my best moment. I guess she drew her own conclusions, there, and I... let her. She wouldn't have believed me if I'd told the truth, anyway."

"Fair point," Lucifer agreed. "And now she seems less inclined to think that Mum and I have had sex, so it's helpful."

"Ew," Azrael said. Then, with profound disgust, she added, " _EW_."

"Quite," Lucifer concurred. Considering his sister thoughtfully, he added, "Mum said she was there when you spoke with dear old Dad on my behalf, way back when. Did you really yell at him?"

Azrael ducked her head. "Well, yes. I would have gone on, but Uri-" She paused and cast a glance at her brother, who gestured for her to continue. "He hauled me out of the room. Said the pattern was changing, but he wouldn't tell me to what. Nothing good, I'm sure. "

"Well," Lucifer said quietly. "Thank you, little sister. I don't know that anyone else has stuck up for me to him."

For once, Azrael met Lucifer's gaze fully, her smile lighting her face. "You're welcome, Luci. I just, well, I wish I could have done more."

"I'm not sure what could have been done, not at that point," Lucifer said.

Azrael nodded, and glanced away, then back to Lucifer. "Are we... all right?" she asked tentatively. "After yesterday?"

"Of course," Lucifer replied, with a smile. "I'm not one to hold a grudge." Catching Azrael look of utter disbelief, he clarified, "That's for our parents."

Expression clearing, Azrael nodded and got to her feet. "I'm going to turn in, I think."

"It's early yet," Lucifer suggested, brows lifting slightly.

"It's been a challenging couple of days," Azrael replied. With a self-deprecating smile, she added, "And this body doesn't always keep up as I'd like. Plus, I'm pretty sure that wading through Trixie's Snapchats is going to take a while." She leaned down and gave Lucifer a quick hug. "Goodnight, brother," she said, tossing a shy smile over her shoulder as she departed.

"Goodnight, little sister," Lucifer replied, a hint of wonder in his expression.

* * *

 **Since you seem to like pleas for reviews in verse...**

 **This chapter you've read is brand new.**

 **I hope that it's pleasing to you.**

 **And, well, if it is,**

 **I hope that (Gee, whiz!)**

 **You'll be kind and leave a review.**


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note: Again, sorry for the delay in updating, but at least this is a relatively long chapter. :)**

* * *

Azrael woke, but remained motionless in her bed, consumed by the feeling of a presence in the room with her. Ignoring her throbbing head, she turned as if moving in her sleep, scanning the room through barely-cracked eyes.

There it was: a figure sat in her chair. In the dimly-lit room, her mortal eyes could only see his outline: big, with short, tightly-curled hair.

After a moment, she heard him humming quietly, probably what had woken her. She listened, trying to place the song. When she realized that it was the angel song from the animal cruelty ads on television, she sat up, then winced as the movement increased the ache in her skull. "Michael, you son of a bitch! I hate that song, and now it's going to be stuck in my head all day."

"Language," her brother rebuked, though he sounded amused. Taking in Azrael's expression, he added, "Oh, overindulged a bit, did we? You know Father wouldn't approve."

"If he doesn't approve, he can tell me himself," Azrael replied wearily. She leaned over to turn on her light. "Were you just sitting there watching me sleep? That's so creepy. What are you, a vampire?"

Michael smiled. "You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you. Glad you're finally up, though. I was getting bored."

"You could have just left and come back at a reasonable hour of the day," Azrael suggested. Then, as Michael's presence actually registered in her sleep-addled brain, she sat up straighter, eyes lighting with a sudden, painful hope. "Why are you here, brother?"

Michael shook his head and answered the question that Azrael hadn't asked. "Father didn't send me to bring you home." Azrael's response was graphic and explicit, and elicited a look that somehow mingled disapproval and admiration from Michael. "I don't think that's physically possible," he replied. "Even for us. Very creative, though." After a moment, he added, disapproval growing stronger, "Lucifer is obviously rubbing off on you."

Azrael eased herself back onto the bed and pulled a blanket over her head. "Well, you can go give it the old college try," she suggested, her voice muffled.

Michael sighed. "If I make your headache go away, can we have a civil conversation?"

The blanket edged downward, revealing disheveled blond hair and wary brown eyes. "About what?"

"I'll take that as a yes. I'm not as skilled as Raphael, but I can manage this much." Michael moved to sit on the edge of the bed and rested the heel of one hand on Azrael's forehead, the darkness of his skin contrasting sharply against her pallor. After a moment, she relaxed against the bed and Michael removed his hand. "Headache gone?"

"Yes, thank you," Azrael replied, adding indistinctly, "Feels better when Mom does it."

Michael peered quizzically at his sister. "What was that?" When her look of wide-eyed puzzlement was his only reply, he shook his head. "Sit up, would you? And fix your hair; you look like a haystack."

Azrael obligingly sat up, crossing her legs tailor-fashion, and shook her hair out of her eyes. "Well, you can't exactly expect the height of style if you show up unannounced in my bedroom." Peering curiously at Michael, she asked, "How much healing can you do?"

Michael moved to his former seat in the chair. "Not much more than that, really. Why?"

"I'm trying to figure out if you can restore me to, well, my former glory." Azrael smiled hopefully.

With a rueful smile, Michael observed, "You're getting good at wielding the cuteness. It's actually a little disturbing."

Azrael's brows lifted. "Is that a yes?"

Michael shook his head. "Even if I wanted to cross Father-which I do not, as you well know-I couldn't restore you. The only one I can think of who could is Raphael, and he wouldn't, same as me. You just have to wait until Father thinks you're ready."

Azrael's shoulders slumped. "But what does that even mean?" she asked softly. "Michael, I want to please him, but I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing."

"Well, what _have_ you been doing?" Michael queried, his expression thoughtful.

Azrael's brows lowered as she considered her answer. "I've been trying to understand them," she explained. "The humans, I mean. Reading their books, watching them, talking to them sometimes. Finding out what they think of me-well, death. There was a man in ancient Egypt who wrote that death was..." She hesitated, then quoted, " _Like the home that a man longs to see, after years spent as a captive_. Nice sentiment. But he was the exception."

Michael nodded as he listened, but suggested, "Might be worth getting out there and doing something-participating, rather than observing. I think you'll have an opportunity soon."

"Why does hearing that make me nervous?" Azrael queried, though she smiled as she added, "Maybe you're right. I've been starting to get restless. I was hoping to hear something from Dad before I did anything, though."

Looking as if he knew the answer, Michael asked, "He's not been communicative lately?"

Azrael shook her head. "If by lately you mean... well, ever, then the answer is no. And I've been asking; I've tried churches and everything, but nothing. Has he said anything to you about me?"

"Sorry, no. But he's keeping an eye on you, if that makes you feel any better."

"Not especially," Azrael muttered. Hesitantly, she asked, "Did he... send you? Today?"

Michael shook his head. "No. I came on my own." With a faint smile, he added, "Just wanted to see how you were settling in. You know, new body and all."

Azrael pursed her lips. "I know, yes. Trust me, I'm not likely to forget. I'm doing as well as can be expected."

Michael added lightly, "Laying off the alcohol might be a good idea, though, really. You know he doesn't like it. Plus, that body clearly can't handle it."

Azrael made a face. "I've been drinking since 1556 and he hasn't objected. I doubt it will make a difference."

Michael's brows lifted. "You remember the year? You?"

"Brother, I remember the day," Azrael replied seriously. "You may have a point about this body, though." She exhaled a short, frustrated breath and asked, "Look, Michael, has he given you any sign as to how long he thinks this is going to take? I mean, I know Father works in his own time, but... have you _seen_ what adolescence does to mortals? Lucifer and I have already butted heads a little, and I can't see puberty helping there. I'd really want to live somewhere else if I'm going to be in this body long-term. A little distance would help."

"No," Michael said sharply, the good humor fading from his mien. "No, that wouldn't go over well at all. Father was very clear about that: he wants you here with Lucifer. This is temporary, I promise, though I'm not sure how long."

Azrael lifted her hands in a brief gesture of surrender. "Fine. I'll stay, if that's what he wants. But Michael, I don't understand."

"You don't have to understand," Michael replied severely. "Just do as you're bidden, little sister."

Azrael's mouth twisted into an expression that was not a smile. "I always do," she replied bitterly. "For all the good it does me. I'm obedient, and if I'm lucky our father will throw me a bone. Maybe a pat on the head, if I do especially well." She passed a hand across her forehead, then looked intently at Michael. Her voice lowering, Azrael said, "My wings."

Sounding a little impatient, Michael asked, "What of them?"

Azrael didn't look at him. Still speaking quietly, she said, "I'd like them back. Could you ask him, please? The rest of it wouldn't be so bad if I just had my wings."

Michael regarded his sister for a long moment, and a trace of sympathy crossed his face. He rested a hand on Azrael's shoulder, and she looked up, a silent plea in her eyes. "I can't promise anything," Michael said finally. "But I'll ask."

Azrael closed her eyes for a moment. "Thank you, brother."

Making no further reply, Michael disappeared, the wind of his passage sending Azrael's hair into disarray once more. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she noticed a bundle on the chair where Michael had been sitting. Stretching, she pulled it onto the bed: a black leather jacket. Holding it before herself, she saw the design: barely-visible wings had been tooled onto the back.

"This wasn't what I meant," she murmured, "but at least it's subtle, for once."

Azrael draped the jacket on the foot of the bed and stretched out once more. Looking up at the ceiling she said softly, "If you're really listening, Dad, I could use a little guidance. It doesn't have to be obvious. I don't need lighting bolts-in fact, I'd be grateful to avoid them, if you don't mind. Just something small, to let me know if I'm doing your will. Please."

Silence. Azrael sighed and lay down once more, pulling the covers back over her head.

* * *

Azrael sat at the piano, quietly playing the song Michael had been humming earlier.

Lucifer stepped out of his bedroom and, catching sight of his sister, moved to join her. "Oh, anything but that," he protested. "You're playing it well, but it's so maudlin."

Azrael looked over with a quick smile. "Sorry, it's been stuck in my head. But it's not all bad. You just associate it with sad-looking animals."

Lucifer tipped his head, acknowledging the point, then looked toward the kitchen. "What do I smell?"

A little sheepishly, Azrael admitted, "Angel food cake. There's plenty if you'd like some." Seeing a bit of hesitation from Lucifer, she added teasingly, "You're allowed to eat it. It's not like there are rules. And there's creme anglaise and macerated berries to go with it."

Lucifer chuckled, his brows lifting. "My, you have been a busy bee, haven't you? You're actually looking a lot more chipper than I was expecting, considering last night." He turned to investigate the cake, Azrael trailing behind him.

"Yes, well, there's a reason for that," Azrael replied, as Lucifer assembled his cake. "I, ah, had a late-night visitor. Brother Michael was here. He took away the headache and all, but then I couldn't get back to sleep."

Lucifer turned slowly. "Michael was here?" he asked, his jaw tightening. "In my home?"

Azrael edged back a step. "And suddenly I realize why Michael showed up in the middle of the night. I didn't ask him here, brother. And maybe put down the knife, if you're finished cutting the cake?"

Lucifer glanced at his hand, then with a shake of his head, put the knife into the sink. "Sorry. Michael and I haven't been on good terms in some time," he said tightly. "Why was he here?"

"Checking up on me," Azrael replied, nudging the plate of cake a little closer to her brother.

Lucifer took up his fork and tasted the cake, then actually looked at it. "This is quite good," he said. "Mind, I prefer the devil's food-"

"Naturally," Azrael murmured, with a grin.

"-but I do like this. What is that flavor, almond?" Azrael nodded and Lucifer took another bite before asking, "What did Michael have to say?"

Azrael sat down next to her brother and ticked off the points on her fingers. "He thinks I should get involved with the humans more: participation rather than observation. He suggested that I stop drinking, which may not be a bad idea. Oh, and I'm forbidden to move out, sorry about that."

Lucifer's fork paused above the partially-eaten cake. He drew himself up. "Move out?" he echoed, his voice hurt. "You're going to leave?"

"No," Azrael said quickly, though she eyed Lucifer with some curiosity. "I just brought it up with Michael because, well, my situation is kind of open-ended. I don't really know how long I'm going to be here, and I don't want to cramp your style..."

Lucifer shook his head. "None of that," he said briskly. "I extended the invitation and I meant it. However long you're here is a drop in the bucket compared to our existence."

Azrael ducked her head and smiled. "Well, then. Okay. Thanks."

Lucifer started in on the cake again. "By the way, Mum had an interesting theory, when we spoke the other night."

"Oh?" Azrael queried. "Do I want to hear it?" She considered Lucifer's cake, then got herself a slice, topping it with the berries and creme. She returned to her seat, lowering her head in a brief prayer.

Lucifer sighed. "Really? You're still doing that?"

Azrael grinned. "I was giving thanks for the hands that made the cake." She lifted one hand. "Thank you." And the other hand. "Thanks to you, too. Nice job, hands. Now what was that about Mom's theory?"

Lucifer grinned briefly, then nodded, his expression sobering. "Seeing as how it pertains to your situation, yes, you probably want to hear it. She thinks that you're not actually here because of Uriel's death. Said that even Dad wouldn't overreact like that."

Azrael was silent for a long moment, ostensibly chewing her cake. "Michael told me that was why," she said finally, her expression troubled. "I... he wouldn't lie, Luci."

"Do you remember exactly what he said?" Lucifer asked, his dark eyes serious. "You know how he can be, just skirting the truth."

"We're almost all like that," Azrael replied dryly. She thought for a moment, then shook her head. "I can't remember, no. I was still kind of shocked about Uri; I didn't exactly pay the closest attention."

Lucifer polished off the last of this cake. "Well," he said thoughtfully, "we could call brother Michael here and get an explanation straight from the ass's mouth."

Azrael shot a sidelong look at her brother. "...suggests the man who just admitted to not being on good terms with Michael? Is that a great idea? And I thought it was the horse's mouth."

"I stand by my statement," Lucifer replied, with a smirk. "Rae, I can handle myself with Michael, if you want to speak with him."

Azrael observed, with a dubious look, "I can't break the two of you up, if something should happen. Should we get some backup?"

"Maze?" Lucifer suggested.

Azrael shook her head. "Not if the point is to avoid a fight. Amenadiel is out, what with his current lack of powers." Azrael tapped one finger lightly against the counter and ventured, "Mom?"

Lucifer pondered the suggestion, then shook his head. "We know she can heal, but we don't have any idea what else she can do. She might not be any help, even if she was willing."

"She'd be willing," Azrael countered, "if only for the chance to see Michael. And, well, just her presence might be helpful... but I'm not sure how Michael would react. Think he'd try to take her back to Hell?"

"That's entirely possible," Lucifer replied, with a grim nod. "He's always been dear old Dad's yes-man, after all. Might be best to avoid that, don't you think?"

Azrael nodded and took a deep breath. "So it would just be us."

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing, little sis," Lucifer said expansively. He added more seriously, "It's up to you, though. If you'd rather not ask him..."

Azrael was silent for a long moment. "I want to know," she said finally. "And this seems like the quickest way. I'll call him," she hastened to add.

"Doubt he'd answer if _I_ called," Lucifer replied equably.

Azrael closed her eyes and folded her hands.

After a few moments, Michael appeared. "Impatient, aren't you?" he chided. "I haven't even seen Father, let alone had a chance to ask him-" Turning, he caught sight of Lucifer and any congeniality left his manner. "Lucifer."

"Michael," Lucifer replied airily, his tone a little too cheerful, a certain manic gleam in his eyes.

Azrael sighed. "Yes, that's right. We all know each others' names, very good." She essayed a short golf clap, then drew back a little as both her brothers turned on her, Lucifer's expression amused, Michael's annoyed.

"Azrael, why did you call me?" Michael demanded.

With an overly bright smile, Lucifer said, "We've just got a question for you, little brother?"

Azrael sent an unobtrusive elbow at Lucifer's ribs, muttering, "Could you please dial it down a little?"

"Oh, that's no fun," Lucifer replied. At Azrael's continuing regard, he sighed, and gestured for her to continue.

Turning to Michael, who was looking increasingly annoyed, Azrael smiled. "Thanks for not just taking off. It's just one quick question, if you don't mind?"

Lucifer added brightly, "And if you're a good boy, you can have some cake. It's quite nice, actually; Rae made it herself."

"Will you please shut up?" Michael asked through clenched teeth. Turning from Lucifer to his sister, Michael asked, "What is it, Azrael?"

After casting a pointed look at Lucifer, Azrael took a deep breath and asked Michael, "Why did our father send me here?"

Michael's brows lowered as he looked between his siblings. "You called me here for that? Azrael, you know why you're here."

"Yes, but let's hear it again, shall we?" Lucifer suggested.

Peering down his nose at Lucifer, Michael replied coldly, "I don't answer to you, you degenerate."

"Oh, so you _have_ been paying attention," Lucifer replied, getting to his feet and moving to pour himself a drink. He looked over to Azrael, lifting the bottle in inquiry.

Azrael looked profoundly tempted for a moment, but shook her head at Lucifer before turning hopefully to Michael. "Please, brother? Can you go through it one more time?"

Michael sighed, his jaw working. "We don't need to do this again, Azrael."

"Maybe he's forgotten," Lucifer suggested, his solicitous manner rather overdone. "What about it? Having some memory lapses, are we, Mikey?"

"Michael," the angel corrected sharply.

Azrael didn't say anything, but just watched Michael entreatingly. The silence stretched, Lucifer looking fascinated as Michael squirmed under his sister's imploring regard. "Fine," he said finally, moving to take a seat. "It was... you know, the situation with Uriel."

Lucifer, his manner closer to serious, observed quietly, "We all know that Rae wasn't responsible for Uriel's death, Michael. Why are you doing this to her?"

Michael's lips tightened. "I'm just doing what I'm told, Lucifer. And I'm well aware that Azrael's part in Uriel's death was... minimal."

Azrael put a hand on Michael's shoulder, gripping it for a moment. "I know how it is," she said, her voice rich with sympathy. "It's important to toe the line with Father. But did he really send me here because of Uri? What did he say, really?"

Michael didn't speak for a moment, looking between his siblings. His gaze settling on his sister, he said reluctantly, "Since you already seem to have made the connection... Father wants you here, Azrael. With Lucifer, in this-" He gestured at his sister. "-body."

Azrael inclined her head." Okay," she said slowly. "So he's not upset about Uri?"

Michael regarded Azrael with a trace of pity. "Of course he is, little sister. He lost his son, our brother. How could he not be upset? But him sending you here had nothing to do with that."

Azrael exchanged a look with Lucifer, then asked Michael, "So why _did_ he send me here? Why take me away from my job, my power?"

Michael dropped his gaze for a moment, then regarded Azrael regretfully. "I don't know. Father never told me."

An edge to his voice, Lucifer inquired, "What instructions did dear old Dad give you, exactly? Did he say to tell Rae she was being sent here because of Uriel?"

"I didn't tell her she was here because of Uriel," Michael said hastily.

Azrael stepped away from Michael and toward the balcony, her hands balling into fists. "You definitely gave that impression, though. And you didn't correct me when I thought that was it."

Lucifer shook his head. "Well, you really are a chip off the old block, Michael. You're a manipulative bastard, just like the old man."

Catching the dangerous note to Lucifer's voice, Azrael looked sharply at him. "Luci-" she began, before shaking her head. "Time for you to leave, Michael," she said firmly, turning away from her brothers, her back ramrod-straight. "Now."

Michael got to his feet and moved toward Azrael. In an instant, Lucifer was between the two, one hand lifting in warning. With an irritated look at his brother, Michael said, "Azrael, Father said to get you here, so that's what I did. You said you understood how it is."

"She said that it's time for you to go," Lucifer said, his voice dropping half an octave, his eyes flashing red.

Michael drew back a step, a hint of quickly-masked concern in his dark eyes. Looking past Lucifer to Azrael, he said, "I'll speak to Father." He was gone in an instant.

Azrael stumbled to the couch and sat down heavily, dropping her head into her hands. Lucifer moved to sit next to her. He rested a hand on her back, feeling the ragged tremors that shook her body. "I don't know what to do," she said, her voice muffled by her hands. "Luci, how do I get him to change me back, give me back my job?"

Lucifer was silent a moment, weighing his answer. "I don't think the change is permanent," he said finally.

Azrael nodded, her face still hidden. "Michael said that," she agreed.

"But you and I both know, little sister," Lucifer continued softly, his hand tracing a circle on Azrael's back, "That Dad does things in his own time. I'm not saying it's right, but that's how he operates. Railing against him, satisfying though it is, isn't going to make him act."

With one final, shuddering breath, Azrael lifted her head. Her eyes were clear, though her expression was grim. "So he sent me here, specifically here, with you, and I have no idea what he wants me to do."

Lucifer offered a wry little smile. "Really, how is that different from what he ever does?"

That brought a smile to Azrael's face, though there was no pleasure in it. "True. So I guess I just go on as I have been, and hope I get it right."

"That's the spirit," Lucifer encouraged sardonically, turning as the elevator doors opened to reveal Maze.

The demon paused just inside the penthouse, her manner alert. "Who?" she asked Lucifer.

"Michael," he replied. "He's gone. It's fine; no violence."

"Too bad," Maze replied. "I was up for a little violence."

Lucifer gave Azrael a final pat and got to his feet. "Yes, because it's a day ending in Y."

Azrael, watching the interaction with mild interest, queried, "How could you tell?"

"Angels stink," Maze replied bluntly, adding to Azrael, "Let's go."

Azrael cast a puzzled look at the demon. "Go where?"

Maze exhaled an impatient sigh. "I got us some mat time." When Azrael didn't look especially enlightened, Maze mimed a punch. "You said I should teach you how to duck."

"I didn't mean..." Azrael's initial, disturbed expression tempered to one of wary interest. "Do I get to hit back?"

Maze smirked. "You can try, Tiny Death."

Azrael got to her feet. "I'll get my shoes. A little violence sounds good, just now." She vanished down the hallway.

"What did Michael want?" Maze inquired, investigating the angel food cake and wrinkling her nose.

Lucifer shook his head, looking after Azrael. "As it turns out, Azrael wasn't sent here because of Uriel. Not sure what Dad's up to, but Michael didn't seem to know either. The bastard let her think it was because of Uriel, though." Turning to Maze, he added lightly, "Do try not to break my sister."

Maze shrugged. "I'll go easy on her," she agreed carelessly, "But I'm not going to let her hit me."

"Well, no. Of course not."

Azrael pulled on her leather jacket as she came down the hallway, a little trepidation in her expression. Seeing it, Maze shook her head. "Come on. I won't hurt you... too much."

Trailing behind the demon, Azrael murmured, "I hope I don't regret this."

Lucifer watched the pair leave, his brows lifting at the back of Azrael's jacket. Shaking his head, he moved to pour another drink. "Cheers," he called, as the elevator doors closed.

* * *

 **I can't come up with another type of short-form poetry, but I'd still love reviews. If I get enough, maybe I'll attempt a sonnet or a villanelle or something for the next chapter. ;)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Author's note: Part of the reason for the delay in posting this is that it was not the chapter I had intended, but the response to Michael in the previous chapter made me want to bring him back. Sadly, this is not for him to work through his issues with Lucifer, but I think it would take more than a chapter for that.**

* * *

Lucifer stood on his balcony and surveyed the night sky, nearly-empty lowball glass in hand. His evening's conquests drowsed in his bed, happily sated, but his restlessness had driven him out of doors. He refilled the glass, then lifted it skyward in an ironic toast.

"Well, you really screwed up this time," he observed, after downing half the drink in one gulp. "You let Michael handle things, and look at what a mess he's made of it. Rae's desperate to please you, you idiot. She would have done anything you asked-anything. But you sent her here without directions and now she's flailing."

"I don't know that she'd do _anything_. Not yet."

Lucifer looked toward the source of the voice. His brother Michael lounged in a nearby chair. Smirking, Lucifer queried, "What, you missed me so much that you just had to come back to see me?"

Ignoring Lucifer's words, though his lips tightened, Michael continued, "And just so you know, I haven't made a mess of anything. I was just doing what I was told."

"Yes, well, plenty of people _just doing what they're told_ have ended up in Hell," Lucifer replied with a short, humorless laugh. "And if you think you haven't done anything wrong, you haven't been paying attention to our sister."

Michael got to his feet and moved to look out over the balcony, though he left a wide berth between himself and his brother. "Azrael and I had a perfectly nice conversation when I was here last week. She's fine."

Shaking his head in disbelief, Lucifer said, "You lived in the Silver City with her for millenia and you don't know her at all."

"I didn't exactly see much of her," Michael said tartly, a note of disdain in his voice as he added, "She spent most of her time dirtside."

Lucifer drew himself upright. "Dirtside," he echoed, a note of umbrage in his voice. "By which you mean here?"

"It's not so much the place as the people," Michael replied contemptuously. "I can smell them on you, brother. I can't believe that even _you_ would lower yourself like that."

"Well, sometimes they do the lowering, in all the best ways," Lucifer replied, his voice light but his expression rather flat.

Michael made a face like he had licked a cat, eliciting a brief laugh from his brother. "Oh, too much detail for you?" Lucifer queried, his voice full of malicious humor. "I haven't even gotten started. Why, just this evening, we got some parsnips and two pints of safflower oil, and we-"

"Stop," Michael protested, a strangled note to his voice.

"You should try it sometime, brother," Lucifer purred, his voice dropping to a hypnotic tone. "Take the advice you gave our sister. Less watching-and I know you've been watching. More... participating."

"That doesn't work on me," Michael spat. He looked away, toward the horizon, and took a deep breath.

Lucifer, though, didn't allow Michael time to collect himself. "Or perhaps I'm offering the wrong thing," he needled. Gesturing toward the bottle, he said, "Get another glass. We can't get drunk, but we can make a good try. Or, no, I just got in some great molly the other night; I'm sure I've got some left."

"Brother," Michael protested. "Your body is a temple."

Lucifer grinned just a bit too widely. "Of course it is," he agreed. "But you didn't specify whose temple. Aphrodite," he announced, with a grand gesture toward the penthouse, and the room within where his bedmates still slumbered. Lifting his glass, he added, "Dionysus. I'm really quite devout, when you look at it that way. Worship every day." Looking extremely pleased with himself, he turned to his brother.

Michael's face was a study in disgust. "You deviant blasphemer."

"Devil," Lucifer reminded him. The 'duh' was implied. "So that's a no on the molly?" When Michael shook his head, Lucifer continued, "If course I'm a deviant, by your standards, but at least I'm not a tool."

Michael regarded his brother with some puzzlement. "You mean me? Of course I'm a tool." Lucifer let out a short, amused laugh as Michael continued, "I carry out our father's will."

"Well, that's the crux of the matter, isn't it?" Lucifer observed. "You'll just do whatever he asks, without a second thought."

Michael stared at his brother with no small amount of incomprehension. "Of course," he agreed. "And so should you. Brother, if you'd just return to Hell..."

"What?" Lucifer demanded. "All will be forgiven? I hardly think so. Just give it up, Michael. That's never going to happen.

A shriek shattered the air before Michael could reply, coming from within the penthouse and drawing Lucifer's startled gaze. After a moment, Azrael dashed into the balcony and flung herself at Michael. "How did you get him to agree to it?" she demanded, laughing and crying at the same time.

Michael hugged Azrael close, regarding Lucifer over the top of her head with a rather smug smile. "Well, it did take some effort," he allowed. "That's why I didn't come back sooner. Is Raphael still here?"

Overlooked in Azrael's raucous arrival, another angel hesitated at the entrance to the balcony: tall and fair, he had the same dark eyes that the siblings shared. Inclining his head to Lucifer, he spoke with fragile politeness. "Brother. My apologies for this invasion, such as it is. There was no other way to do it."

Lucifer pulled his gaze from the picture Azrael and Michael made, the girl finally dislodging herself from her brother as she wiped at her eyes with the heel of one hand. Michael leaned down to speak quietly to her, still watching Lucifer.

"No apologies necessary," Lucifer replied tightly.

Raphael stepped forward, deliberately placing himself between Lucifer and the others. "I'm surprised Father agreed to give her back her wings," he said casually, though not without an understanding smile.

"Is she still..." Lucifer began.

"Mortal? Yes." Raphael looked a little dubious. "I asked her to take it easy on the wings, as I'm really not sure how this is going to work, but apparently Father was very specific. Wings, yes, and the ability to hide them from the mortals. Nothing else."

Looking a little puzzled, Lucifer queried, "Do you know what his game is, sending her to me in that form?"

"No idea, sorry." And Raphael did honestly look sorry, as well as a little frustrated. "I'm not really in the inner circle these days." He tipped his head meaningfully toward Michael, and Lucifer's brows lifted.

Finishing her conversation with Michael, Azrael beamed past Raphael at Lucifer, clearly certain that her brother would share in her delight, then stepped away from Michael. With a small flourish, she unfurled her wings, all but radiating joy.

Lucifer summoned a smile. "Very nice," he approved.

Raphael stepped closer to Lucifer. "If she overdoes it," he said seriously, "or if something... happens to her, call for me. I'll come."

"What would happen?" Lucifer queried, brows lowering in concern.

"I'm not sure. Maybe nothing." Raising his voice, Raphael added, "And you're going to take it easy, _right_ , Rae?"

With a dazzling smile, Azrael replied, "Of course I will, brother. Did you notice how I didn't jump off the roof as a test flight?"

"For which I am profoundly grateful," Raphael replied, looking amused. "Michael, shall we?"

Michael nodded equably. Stepping around Raphael he leaned in to Lucifer and said quietly, his voice smugly satisfied, " _Now_ she'll do anything he asks."

In an instant, Lucifer had slammed Michael against the wall behind them, his hand around his brother's throat.

"Hey," Raphael protested sharply, trying to get between his brothers.

Michael didn't resist, instead saying, his voice a little strained, "You know I'm right."

Azrael came around on the other side of Raphael and rested a hand on Lucifer's shoulder. "Brother," she said lightly, "you're ruining my big moment, here." Her voice barely shook on the last word, revealing that she was not quite as nonchalant as she tried to appear.

Still, it worked. Lucifer released Michael in a short, violent gesture and stepped toward the edge of the balcony. "Get him out of here," Azrael murmured to Raphael, and the two angels disappeared. Azrael followed Lucifer, standing next to him. "What was that about?"

"Michael's manipulating you," Lucifer replied, reaching for the bottle and filling his glass once more.

Azrael let her wings unfurl. "With these? No, he isn't." As Lucifer turned to stare, she explained patiently, "Father is. You know Michael wouldn't jump in a lake if he was on fire without our father's say-so." She paused, then her voice took on a note of humor. "Admittedly, the fire wouldn't touch him, so that's a poor example, but you get my point."

Lucifer took a drink, then shook his head. "You knew?"

Azrael sighed. "Despite my appearance, I'm not actually eleven, brother. Dad's been manipulating me for a for a long time." She turned a little, absently admiring her wings, then added, "Michael said I should try to convince you to go back to Hell. Will you?"

Lucifer regarded his sister in puzzled curiosity. "No."

"Pretty please?"

"No! Azrael, what are you on about?"

Azrael tucked away her wings and took a seat, smiling despite herself. "That's what Michael wanted, in exchange for the wings. So I made an effort to convince you," she replied, with a small shrug. Expression going reflective, she added, "Dad's usually subtler. Must be Michael's influence. If Dad really wanted me to get you to go back to Hell, he should have let me keep my job. If I'd threatened to take Chloe ahead of her time, you would have done... something." Catching sight of Lucifer's darkening expression, she hastened to add, "Even if I could, I wouldn't do it now that I know her. Getting you to go back to Hell is not the hill I want to die on. Plus, taking people at the wrong time is a bureaucratic nightmare."

Expression clearing, Lucifer asked, "The Angel of Death does paperwork?"

"Of a sort," Azrael replied, with a quick smile. "I don't miss that part."

Lucifer topped off his glass and sat next to Azrael. "How is the training with Maze going, by the way?"

Azrael made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "A bit tough at first. Figuring out how to fall was... challenging, I must admit."

"You could barely walk after that first time." Lucifer grinned suddenly. "Though that's often the case after a first time with Maze."

"Lucifer!" Despite her protest, Azrael laughed. "And on that note, I'm going to turn in." She stood, her wings unfolding as if if their own volition. Catching sight of them in her peripheral vision, she smiled, though the smile faded when she turned back to her brother. "I don't understand how you could cut them off," she said softly. "And then burning them, Luci..."

Lucifer tutted softly. "Don't look at me like that, little sister. No pity. I had to do it. If they were whole, it gave me an out."

Azrael dropped her gaze for a moment. "But don't you miss them?"

"My wings?" Lucifer was silent for a long moment. "Yes," he said finally. "But not what they represent. I'm better off without them."

With a small smile, Azrael observed, "You've got your powers, but no wings, and I'm just the opposite. Between the two of us,we just about make one good angel."

Lucifer chuckled. "Maybe not a _good_ one."

Azrael stepped forward and gripped Lucifer's shoulder for a moment. "Good night, brother."

With a smile, Lucifer covered Azrael's hand with his own. "Good night, little sis." As she disappeared into the penthouse, he called after her, "I'm glad you got your wings back."

"Bells are ringing all over Bedford Falls," Azrael replied, with a laugh.

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 **As always, I'd love reviews. They're a great motivator and, as this chapter makes clear, they can definitely influence the outcome of the story!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Author's note: The style of writing I did last (barring work-related stuff) was for an online, text-based game, and tended to focus more on action and dialog than what went on inside the characters' heads. I'm trying to get more in Rae's head in this one.**

 **Also, a note to guest 12, since I can't private message: thanks for all the reviews! I'm really glad someone has actually heard of John Snow the doctor.**

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Azrael sprawled on her stomach in a soft lounge chair on the balcony, the late-afternoon sun warming her body. Quiet music played from her phone, and a book lay abandoned on a nearby small table, spine up, pages splayed. Instead, she had allowed herself to be lulled into a near drowse, enjoying the sun, the music, and, most especially, the feel of the light breeze on her wings.

She was doing nothing, and it felt glorious. For this one moment, possibly the first since she had been shoehorned into this body, she was completely at ease. Consciously, she relaxed her muscles, enjoying the faint ache from the morning's training session with Maze, and tried to remember the last time she'd had nothing to do and nothing troubling her. Even here, in this body, she'd felt a certain amount of pressure. After all, living with the Devil was not what one could call relaxing.

Sure, she liked him... even loved him, but she was also scared of him. The wings made that easier, though. She was still restricted to mortal speed, but she could always jump off the roof if need be, no matter what Raphael said. No more having to wait for the elevator, if things got to be too much. She'd still have to be careful, though. Always careful. She pushed away those thoughts with a sigh and closed her eyes, focusing on the music: acoustic guitar, wordless, just enough to distract her, so she didn't have to think.

A quiet cough behind her sent a terror-fueled jolt of adrenaline through her body. She sat up, tucking away her wings as she turned to face the interloper.

Amenadiel. He stood just inside the balcony, his face expressionless, and Azrael was suddenly taken back to all the times he'd caught her at mischief, back when her actual age was closer to that of her body. "You need to be more careful," he said, his voice low and rough. "I could have been anyone."

"Yes, brother," Azrael replied meekly, unsuccessfully willing her heart rate to return to normal. She didn't make excuses - they never worked with Amenadiel - but instead lowered her head, studying her oldest brother through her eyelashes.

After a long moment, Amenadiel asked, "Where's Lucifer?"

Azrael grabbed her phone and turned off the music. "On a case." She wasn't sure if she wished Lucifer was home, or not, honestly. Things had a way of escalating in his presence.

Amenadiel nodded and turned to leave. "I'll come back later."

Azrael got to her feet, her posture reflecting her uncertainty. "Wait!" Amenadiel paused, but did not turn. Azrael thought fast. "Do you want some cake?"

Now Amenadiel turned, with a puzzled expression. "Cake? Why cake?"

Azrael shrugged. "Why not cake? I've been baking lately. Keeps me occupied." She moved past Amenadiel into the kitchen and started to assemble plates and forks, flicking the occasional glance at her brother. His expression gave away nothing, but she'd always had trouble reading Amenadiel. "I'm going to ask you something. I want you to know that I'm not talking philosophy, or about your life choices, or anything like that. And I'm not going to judge you based on your answer. Okay?"

Amenadiel followed his sister, settling easily to a seat. "Now I'm really interested to hear what this question is."

Azrael took out a knife. She smiled. "Angel food or devil's food?"

Amenadiel shook his head in vaguely amused disbelief. He didn't smile, though, not quite. "Really? That's the kind of cake you have?"

"I could say chocolate and white, if it makes you feel better?" Azrael cut a slice of the white cake for herself, then grabbed two mugs. "Here's an easier one. Coffee?" She poured some for herself, then, as Amenadiel nodded, poured a second cup and handed it to her brother. When Amenadiel still didn't speak, she smiled, a little amused. "It's just cake, brother. Really."

"Chocolate, then," Amenadiel said.

Azrael cut a slice of the devil's food cake and slid it before her brother. "Good choice. That's what Mazikeen has been eating." She bowed her head briefly over her cake, then took up her fork. She still wasn't sure if saying grace did any good, but it wasn't hurting, and she could use all the celestial goodwill she could get. One never knew what her father noticed.

Amenadiel let the praying pass without comment. "Maze, really?" He took up his fork and tasted the cake, brows lifting.

Azrael studied her cake, unwilling to look at her brother as she made the confession. "She's been, um, helping me. Self-defense training, since I'm stuck with mortal speed."

Amenadiel shot his sister a sidelong glance. "So you're consorting with _that Hellspawn_?" he queried, a note of irony in his voice.

"Hey," Azrael replied, with a nervous laugh, "I ride shotgun with the Devil. Mainly because he won't let me drive, but still." She put down her fork, arranging it carefully just so next to her plate, and turned fully to face Amenadiel. "Seriously, brother," she added candidly, "I'm sorry for what I said to you before, about Mazikeen. I... my previous experiences with her weren't great. But now that I've gotten to know her, she's..." Her shoulders lifted slightly. "Not _good_. I mean, I'm sure she'd agree with me, there. But not... like I thought. I shouldn't have judged you as I did."

Amenadiel took another bite of cake, chewing it thoughtfully as he considered his answer. "It's what you were taught," he said thoughtfully. "What we all were taught, really. I doubt that any of us would be very open-minded about a demon." He looked over with a brief smile. "You're really doing self-defense work with her?" At Azrael's rueful nod, he asked, "How's that going?"

After a sip of her coffee, Azrael replied, "I know she's going easy on me, but I still feel like I'm barely keeping up with her. Honestly, I think she's just doing it because she likes throwing me around."

Amenadiel chuckled, a low, rich sound that Azrael couldn't help but think sounded a little smug. "That's Maze," he agreed. "Think it's doing any good?"

"I mean, I'm enjoying it, mostly, but..." Azrael shrugged. "I'm still this size, this speed, this muscle mass. If someone your size wanted to hurt me and I wasn't quick enough to get get away right at the start, even Mazikeen's dirty tricks probably wouldn't help." With a brief grin she added, obviously in jest, "I'm pretty sure I could beat up most of the people who buy their clothes at Gymboree, though."

Amenadiel raised a brow. "But you wouldn't."

Azrael managed not to roll her eyes through sheer force of will, knowing her brother's likely response. "Of course not."

"Good." Looking down at his plate, Amenadiel added, "This cake is really good."

"Thanks," Azrael replied with a quick smile, reflecting on the healing powers of chocolate cake. Clearly Trixie was on to something.

The two ate and drank in silence for a few moments, until Amenadiel said, "So... you got your wings back."

Azrael took a quick drink of coffee to moisten her suddenly dry mouth. "Um. Yes. Just last night."

Amenadiel put down his fork, though that wasn't especially odd; his cake was gone. "How?"

Azrael sighed. "Brother, you would be a lot easier to talk to if you used more words," she said with feeling. "I asked Michael if he'd ask Dad if I could have my wings back. It took him a little while - not long, though, in the grand scheme of things - but he and Raphael came by last night."

Amenadiel stared into his coffee mug." So you're back in our father's good graces?"

"Back?" Azrael shook her head, her lips twisting bitterly. "Brother, when was I ever in Father's good graces? Maybe for a time, when I was very small, but I doubt it." She set down her fork and rubbed her forehead. It didn't hurt, not really, but Azrael could feel the incipient headache this conversation was causing. "No, I'm not in Father's good graces. Probably just more of his mind games. If I were really in his favor, he would have restored me."

Amenadiel shook his head, one finger tapping thoughtfully on the counter. "Maybe not. After all, he sent you here for a reason, right?"

"I would assume so," Azrael replied. "Though Michael said that it wasn't for, well, Uriel." She hesitated over her next words, unsure of her brother's response. "Michael is... very high in his favor, just now."

Amenadiel was silent for a long moment. "Now that I'm not, you mean?"

"I didn't say that," Azrael said quickly, already regretting her words.

"I know you didn't, little sister," Amenadiel replied quietly. He got to his feet. "Tell Lucifer I was here?"

Azrael stood as well. "Of course." Her brother headed for the elevator, his unhurried strides still managing to eat up the distance rather quickly. She couldn't let it end that way. "Amenadiel." He turned. "Brother... I'm sorry."

Her brother smiled, his first in the conversation. He inclined his head briefly, and departed.

Azrael exhaled a quiet, relieved breath. Tipping her head slightly skyward, she offered, "Give him a break, would you, Dad? He's served you longer and better than any of us. If anyone deserves your mercy, it's Amenadiel."

There was no answer, but she hadn't really expected one, not at this point. With a soft sigh, she started to gather up the dirty dishes. So much for her relaxing afternoon.

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 **As always, reviews are appreciated!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note: I get that it's March, and not the time of year for a Christmas story, but the idea came to me and I went with it. Hope the timing isn't too weird.**

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"So, I'm not trying to butt in, Lucifer, but... your sister..." Chloe paused down the hall from Ella's lab and Lucifer, perforce, stopped as well.

"Yes, what's she done now?" Lucifer smiled engagingly, his lack of concern evident.

Chloe shook her head, with a quick smile. "Nothing, and you know it. She was a sweetheart when she was over on Saturday, but she seemed a little off. Is everything okay with her?"

Lucifer's expression grew serious. "She's well enough, just a little family drama. She's had a positive development on that front recently, though, so I'm sure she'll be more chipper next time you see her. She's probably around here somewhere, actually; I asked her to meet me here."

Nodding, Chloe said, "She'd mentioned something about her brother Michael, but didn't really go into details." She hesitated a beat, then continued, "Michael is an archangel. You're, well, Lucifer -"

"The one and only," he agreed, though his eyebrows approached his hairline.

"- and Azrael is the Angel of Death."

Lucifer stared at the detective and then shook his head. His tone one of mildly offended disbelief, he said, "Well, not presently, but, what, she told you? After all that grief she's given me for telling? And you believed her, when you wouldn't believe me all those times?"

Chloe returned Lucifer's stare. "What are you talking about? I looked up the name on the internet. I was just was wondering about the sort of parents who would give their little girl a name like that."

Lucifer sighed. "Well, you've got the order wrong, and you're not even taking into account Gabriel or Raphael or the others, but I can go on at length about what kind of parents they are. ."

Brows lifting, Chloe asked, "You have brothers named Gabriel and Raphael, too? Besides Michael and Amenadiel? How many siblings do you have?"

"A whole host of them," Lucifer replied with a smirk.

"And only some of you are named after archangels?" Chloe shook her head, then asked after a moment, "Rae doesn't really speak Sumerian, does she? She told Trixie about Gilgamesh when she slept over that time."

Lucifer considered the question, then shook his head. "Well, not any more, Detective. Sumerian is a dead language." He added, amused, "I'm assuming that she took out the hooker at the beginning of the story, or I'm sure I would have heard about it earlier."

"Does that mean she used to... you know what, never mind." Chloe nodded, puzzled expression shading to one of amusement. "Uh, yes. Enkidu was visited by a special friend who made him very happy. Thank goodness. At least one of you can show discretion around an eight year-old."

"Boring," Lucifer said cheerfully.

Looking amused, Chloe observed, "The eleven year-old is a lot more mature than you are, sometimes."

At that moment, Ella stepped into the hallway. "Hey, guys. Lucifer, can I borrow you for a sec?"

Lucifer nodded agreeably. "Of course you can. Always happy to share my expertise."

"Well, it's not work-related, but thanks."

Lucifer beamed. "Even better," he purred.

"Um, no, not that, either," Ella replied, though not without a grin. "It's about Rae."

"What's she done now?"

With an amused headshake, Chloe said, "I'll just leave you to it." She continued down the hall as Lucifer stepped into Ella's lab.

Azrael sprawled bonelessly in a chair at the precinct and did her best to ignore her brother Raphael, who sat in the chair opposite hers, in favor of her phone. It wasn't working.

"You haven't noticed anything different?" Raphael queried, his dark eyes concerned.

Azrael lifted her gaze from her phone and regarded him steadily. "Brother. For the fifth time, no. My -" She lowered her voice. "- wings work as they ever did, in the little time I've had to test them. On my honor, if I do notice something, I'll tell you."

Raphael frowned a little. "But mortals don't have wings, and -"

Azrael interrupted him, her voice taking on an unaccustomed sharpness. "I'm. Not. A mortal, for all that I'm trapped in this body." Her expression softening, she added, "I know this is an unusual situation. I get that. And I appreciate that you're worried about me. I really can handle myself, though, okay?"

Raphael smiled, shaking his head. "Okay. Sorry. It's just hard, when you're in that body, not to think of you as..."

"A child, yes. You're not the only one." Azrael shifted in the hard seat, and then stretched her arms before her. "Just try to remember... What is it?"

Raphael had caught at her arm, his eyes gone wide. "What happened to the scar?" he demanded.

Azrael pointedly removed her arm from her brother's grasp. "You didn't do it when you gave me back my wings, if that's what's got you upset," she reassured. "Also, seriously, you need to relax. There are a ton of cops around here, and grabbing me like that didn't look good."

Raphael sat back, gave Azrael some space. "How did it happen, then? Father told me to leave it, you know he did."

"So I've been told," Azrael agreed lightly. After giving her brother a long, measuring look, she asked, "Promise you won't overreact?"

Something about Raphael's expression suggested that he would have laughed, if he weren't so concerned. "That sentence never bodes well, coming from you. I'll do my best."

"Remember, lots of cops. Even if you don't have to deal with them, I do, and I'd appreciate it if you didn't make my life more difficult." After another assessing look, Azrael admitted, "Mom did it. I don't think she even knew what she was doing. She was healing something else."

"Mom?" Raphael echoed, then continued in a lower voice after a warning look from his sister. "How? She's in a mortal body." He looked hard at Azrael, then, asking, "What was she healing?"

Azrael's shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "I don't know how. Dad works in mysterious ways? As for what she was healing..." She shook her head. "Not a conversation I want to have just now, in this place."

Raphael looked for a moment like he was going to argue, then shook his head. "Another time, then." He gestured toward Azrael's arm. "Can I have another look?"

Extending her arm, Azrael said, "Thanks for asking first this time."

Raphael gently cupped his sister's arm in one hand, running the fingers of his other hand lightly over the spot where there had previously been a knotted scar. "Amazing," he murmured.

"One might almost say... miraculous, " Azrael said, her tone serious, but a hint of mirth in her eyes.

Raphael shook his head. "Don't even suggest that," he cautioned. "I swear, Lucifer is a bad influence on you."

Azrael grinned briefly, unrepentant. "Michael said that, too."

With another headshake, Raphael released Azrael's arm, though one finger brushed lightly against the reddened skin of her wrist. "Will you tell me what that is?"

Azrael thought about it for a moment, then shook her head, though not without a look of apology. "Sorry, but no."

Raphael chuckled quietly. "You always were independent," he observed, a note of admiration in his voice. "I'll catch you somewhere more convenient for a good conversation." He got to his feet, offering Azrael a warm smile. "I won't wake you up this time, promise."

"Thanks. I'm a growing girl - well, presumably - and I need my sleep." Azrael smiled after her brother, lifting a hand in farewell. When she had watched him for a moment, she took up her phone and chuckled at what she saw there. She made a ridiculous face and took a selfie. After a moment, she peered at her phone and laughed.

Chloe, who had been watching Azrael, approached her and asked casually, "What are you doing?"

Azrael straightened, though her manner was amused rather than guilty. "Snapchatting your daughter, actually," she replied, amending after a moment, "Unless she's got homework she's supposed to be doing, in which case I am definitely not Snapchatting your daughter."

Chloe shook her head, with a reassuring smile. "It's fine. She probably doesn't have homework."

Azrael tucked away her phone, looking amused." I've been spending far too much time on that thing," she admitted.

Chloe settled to a seat in the chair Raphael had occupied. "Who were you talking to just now?"

Azrael looked in the direction Raphael had taken. "Oh, my brother," she replied lightly. "Raphael."

"Ah, so one of the archangels," Chloe replied, with a quick smile.

Azrael froze, her expression carefully neutral. "Um."

"Kidding," Chloe said with a laugh. "Lucifer and I were just talking about your names. How funny that he'd show up just when we were talking about him. Does he live around here?"

Shaking her head Azrael relaxed, leaning back against the chair. "No. He's just visiting."

Her gaze sharpening, Chloe stepped closer, half-reaching for Azrael's arm. "What happened to your arm?"

Azrael edged back in the chair. With a quick smile, she answered, "Mazikeen." She held up her other arm, showing that it, too, was red.

"What?" Chloe demanded. "What did Maze do to you?"

Poorly hiding her amusement, Azrael said, "It's nothing bad, I promise. She was showing me how to get away if someone grabs me. We've already done how to fall - I'm really glad Lucifer has a hot tub - and I'm still working on ducking." She got to her feet, extending an arm. "Here, I'll show you. Grab my arm."

Brows lifting, Chloe stood as well and took Azrael's arm in a loose grip just above the wrist. Azrael tucked in her thumb, making her hand smaller, and easily slipped her hand free. "You've got to hang on tighter than that," she chided.

"I don't want to hurt you," Chloe protested.

Azrael gave her arm a little shake. "I've been working with Mazikeen, remember? Whatever you do, I promise she's done worse."

Tipping her head in acknowledgement, Chloe gripped Azrael's arm more tightly, using both hands this time. Azrael reached past Chloe's arms with her free hand to grasp her trapped hand, then pulled sharply away. She turned the momentum of the movement into a chamber for an elbow strike at Chloe's solar plexus, which she carefully did not land.

"Nice," Chloe approved. "What would you do then, if I was somebody trying to hurt you?"

"Run," Azrael replied succinctly. "Hey, is Lucifer back, too? I was supposed to meet him here."

Chloe smiled briefly. "Getting away is always a good thing. And Lucifer's back, yeah. He's just talking with Ella."

"He's what?" Azrael protested. "That's cheating!" She started down the hall toward Ella's lab, but Lucifer appeared, looking amused. "No," she told him flatly.

Smiling, Lucifer replied, "But why not, Rae? Think of the children!"

Unable to stop himself, he dissolved into laughter.

"What am I missing?" Chloe asked, smiling despite herself.

"Nothing," Azrael replied promptly. "Nothing at all."

Ella, a few steps behind Lucifer, said, "I'm just trying to to get Rae to do me a favor."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "Favors are Lucifer's thing - you could do it, Luci!"

"No, no," Lucifer replied, still chuckling. "I'm far too old. It's for kids."

"Guys, share," Chloe urged, looking between the others.

Ella, casting a hopeful look at Azrael, said, "The big Christmas play at St. Brennan's is tomorrow night, but some of the kids who were supposed to do it have been hit with the flu. We've managed to cover everyone else, but we need one more person, and I was hoping Rae would help us out."

"What's the part?" Lucifer asked, his eyes alight with mirth. "Is it Mary? Please say it's Mary."

Azrael shook her head firmly, with a quell in look for her brother. "Definitely not. Mom would never forgive me." Ignoring the puzzled looks from Ella and Chloe, she informed Lucifer, a but dryly, "It's the angel."

Brows lifting, Lucifer asked, "Which one? I seem to recall that there were several involved..."

"Well, the Bible said there was a whole heavenly host," Ella said, "And we wouldn't have enough kids for that even if nobody was sick. We had to combine them into one."

Lucifer inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Would you excuse us for just a moment, ladies?" He took Azrael's elbow, gently steering her further down the hall.

Looking after them, Ella called, "If it helps at all, the Completely Irrelevant Baby is going to be Jesus."

"She's too old," Azrael protested over her shoulder, walking with Lucifer without complaint as he guided her around a corner. "And a girl," she added, just to Lucifer. "Why do the mortals keep getting gender wrong? And that whole heavenly host she's talking about? I kid you not, it was just me and Uri. Those shepherds completely exaggerated."

Lucifer studied his sister for a moment, still looking a bit amused. He gestured at her shirt. It read Be not forgetful to entertain strangers in flowing script and the image behind the text suggested wings. "The shirt's a little on the nose, don't you think?"

With a shrug and a faint smile, Azrael replied, "Most of them won't get it. I saw it and thought... why not?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Look, you don't have to do this play thing if you'd rather not."

"You're right," Azrael agreed. "I don't have to, and I don't want to. Ready to go?"

Straightening his jacket, Lucifer queried, "But why don't you want to do it?"

Staring at Lucifer as if he'd grown a second head, Azrael asked, "Why would I? They'd dress me up in a white robe - which we never wear - and put tinsel on my head, and... fake wings, Luci. It's humiliating."

Lucifer lifted his hands in a mollifying gesture. "Okay, yes, all of that is probably true. And if it were me, I wouldn't do it."

"Great, neither would I." Azrael turned to leave, taking the opposite direction from which they had come, thus avoiding Ella.

"But," Lucifer said, catching at her arm. Azrael sighed, turning back to her brother. "But," he repeated, "if you'll remember, brother Michael encouraged participation with the mortals, rather than observation, yes?"

Azrael was silent for a long moment. She sighed. "Yes. But do you really think he meant this? And since when do you agree with Michael?"

Lucifer shrugged eloquently. "Seems right up dear old Dad's alley, don't you think? And while I don't particularly care what he thinks, you do."

There was another long pause from Azrael, this one more reflective. "Second-guessing Father's intent is pretty much impossible, but better safe than sorry, I guess. Just don't tell Gabriel, all right? He'd never let me live this down." She turned to head back down the hallway, Lucifer at her side.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, long enough to draw a defensive look from Azrael before he reassured, "He won't hear of it from me." He added thoughtfully, "You know, you do have an alternative to the fake wings."

Azrael stopped walking. While she looked tempted, she shook her head. "Not a good idea."

"Well, why not?" Lucifer cajoled. "Your wings wouldn't have the impact that mine would - on their minds, I mean," he clarified, noting the rather sharp incline Azrael's eyebrows had taken. "Yours are lovely, but, well..."

"I'm not an archangel," Azrael supplied, with a quick smile, "for which I regularly give thanks to Dad." Lifting her shoulders briefly, she added, "I'll think about it, but probably not. I mean, how would I explain them?"

Looking amused, Lucifer suggested, "Say they're a gift from your father."

With a brief, skyward glance, Azrael continued back to Ella and Chloe, who broke off their conversation at the siblings' return. "I'll do it," she agreed, laughing when Ella enveloped her in an enthusiastic hug.

"That's great," the forensic tech said brightly. Taking her phone from a pocket, she added, "I'll text Mary Grace and Father Joe."

"On one condition," Azrael amended. She turned to Lucifer with a smile that was just a little too innocent. "You have to come."

There was a moment of silence, then Lucifer exclaimed, "You have to be joking!" just as Chloe said, "Of course he'll come."

The two stared at each other for a moment, then Chloe asked, "Lucifer, why wouldn't you come? She's your sister!"

Lucifer looked between the three females, all of whom were watching him expectantly. "The Devil doesn't go to church," he protested. "And this will combine church with small children... and Christmas!"

"What's wrong with Christmas?" Ella queried. "Christmas is the best!"

Lucifer and Azrael exchanged glances, and the latter said, "We don't really do Christmas in our family."

"But why not?" Ella asked. "I mean, Rae, I know you believe in God -"

"Lucifer does, too," Azrael muttered.

With an amused huff, Lucifer protested, "Thanks for throwing me under the bus, little sister. You used to be nice."

Azrael smiled sweetly at her brother. "And then I learned to talk." She's added earnestly to Ella, "My family is just really weird. It's okay."

Ella still looked baffled at the concept of not celebrating Christmas, but she nodded, before turning to Lucifer. "Just come, okay? It'll be an hour, tops."

"An hour? For a children's play?" Lucifer groaned.

"Well, there will be some carol-singing at the end," Ella added.

Chloe offered Lucifer a sympathetic smile. "I'll go with you, okay? I mean, I don't believe in this stuff - sorry, Ella -" The tech lifted her hands in an amiable gesture of acceptance. "- but it'll be cute."

"Really?" Lucifer perked up. "Well, if you'll be there, Detective, I suppose I can cope with bad acting and an inaccurate script for one night."

When Chloe laughingly protested that it wouldn't be so bad, Azrael shook her head. "I saw part of a rehearsal on Sunday. He's not wrong. But there will probably be unintentional comedy."

Ella said cheerfully, "Well, I'll definitely be there."

"I'll bring Trixie," Chloe added. "She'll love it. Rae, are you going to ask your mom to come?"

"No." Azrael and Lucifer spoke in unison, their voices holding a near-identical fervor.

"Wow," Ella murmured. "Sometimes I forget you guys are siblings, and then you do something like that."

With a sheepish grin, Azrael said, "Sorry. But I'm sure Mom won't be able to make it. She's so busy."

Looking up from her phone, Ella said, "Mary Grace just texted and she wants you to come by the church if you can, Rae." Shooting a quick, amused glance at Lucifer, she added, "I'm heading that way, if you want a ride."

"Thanks," Azrael replied with a nod. "I'd appreciate it."

Lucifer said, a note of protest in his voice, "But we were going to go to that new Thai place."

Pulling on her jacket, Azrael suggested, "We can go another day." Seeing Lucifer's expression, she added, with a grin, "Or take Chloe. You ready, Ella?"

"Sure," Ella replied. "Just let me get my stuff."

The pair headed back down the hallway toward Ella's lab, even as Lucifer began wheedling attempt to convince Chloe to go to dinner with him.


	26. Chapter 26

Linda, walking down one of the back hallways of St. Brennan's in search of a restroom, paused when she spotted a familiar figure. Azrael, clad in a white robe but blissfully free of a tinsel halo, stood looking up at a painting. Not turning, she observed, "He doesn't even look like that."

Linda moved to stand beside her, considering the picture of Jesus. "No?"

Azrael shook her head. "Consider the time period and the geography. He's shorter, not so pale. But at least this doesn't have him as a blond." She slanted a glance at the doctor. "No offense."

"Oh, none taken," Linda replied amiably, though she did send a look of her own at Azrael's light hair.

Catching the look, Azrael said gently, "This isn't what I look like, either, Doctor. Just the eyes. Mom thinks that Father was trying to make a point, having me look like her, but..." Her shoulders lifted in a brief shrug. "His plan is ineffable, and I'm sure I'm just a very small part."

Curious, Linda queried, "What do you look like, then?"

"Taller. Darker hair. Older." With a quick, vaguely suspicious look, she added, "If Lucifer said something about the eyes and wings, it's not true. Two eyes. Two wings. That's it. I don't know which one of my siblings started the rumor about twelve wings and a multitude of eyes, but that's just creepy."

Laughing, Linda reassured, "He hasn't mentioned it at all."

"Good," Azrael replied fervently. Her expression turned quizzical, then, as if Linda's presence had finally registered. "What are you doing here, by the way?"

"Oh, I met up with the Tribe for drinks last night, and Ella mentioned it," Linda replied, her smile rather intrigued. "Hearing that you were going to be an angel... well, I couldn't resist. How did Lucifer ever talk you into it?"

With a small shrug, Azrael replied, "He pointed out that it might help me curry favor with our father... not that I have ever been successful there." Tipping her head slightly, she inquired, "The Tribe?"

"Chloe, Ella, Maze, and me," Linda replied, with a smile. "We get drinks together, sing karaoke... just the one bar fight. We're there for each other."

Azrael nodded as she spoke. "Oh, yes, that sounds just great... but did you say Maze? So, um, Mazikeen knows about..." She gestured to the white robe.

"Oh, yes," Linda replied brightly. "She thought... what's the matter?"

Azrael had leaned against the wall, the back of her head hitting with an audible thunk. "Ow. She's never going to let me live this down." She sighed, then, a long, drawn-out sound. "She laughed, right? Of course she did. This is ridiculous."

Expression gone shrewd, Linda queried, "You care what Maze thinks?"

"No," Azrael replied quickly. "No. No, of course not. I just know she'll make fun of me, that's all. She makes fun of me even when I haven't done something ridiculous."

Linda nodded, amused. "Of course," she said, her tone making if clear that she wasn't fooled at all. A small child clad in a fluffy costume darted past, and she looked after him. "A cloud?"

"Sheep," Azrael replied with a sigh, though she did look grateful for the distraction. Raising her voice, she called, "Michael, come here, please."

After a moment, the little boy dashed back, arms outstretched. "Rae," he called gleefully.

Azrael folded her arms across her chest. "You ran away from your mom again?"

Michael beamed, a dimple appearing in each cheek. "Up, Rae!" he cajoled.

After a moment of token resistance, Azrael hefted the boy and settled him on her hip, sighing. "If I had dimples," she said seriously, "I could rule the world."

"Maybe, but would you want to?" Linda inquired, making a goofy face at Michael despite herself and then grinning when the boy squealed with laughter.

"Decidedly not," Azrael replied firmly. "That's not my path, nor do I want it to be, so my lack of dimples is probably for the best."

Azrael bounced in place, to Michael's obvious delight, and Linda observed, "You seem to be better around... how did you phrase it? Other people's offspring?"

"Well, he didn't really give me much of a choice," Azrael replied, with an amiable shrug. "I'm here fairly often, and... well, have you noticed how children... flock?"

Linda looked down the hallway as more footsteps approached, soon followed by another participant in the evening's festivities: a berobed young man of about twelve whose beard was obviously fake. Linda noted how his expression brightened when he saw Azrael, as well as Azrael's generally oblivious manner, and smiled. "Good," the boy said. "Here you are. Mary Grace and Ella are looking for you - and probably him, too," he added, with a nod to Michael. "Ella says it's time to finish getting ready."

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Oh - this is Jack; he's playing Joseph. Jack, this is Linda. She's -" Azrael took a moment to categorize Linda. Her brother's therapist and former paramour? No. " - a family friend."

Greetings were exchanged, and the three participants in the play headed off to their designated location. Jack, Linda noticed, reached for Azrael's hand as the trio moved down the hall, though he didn't complete the gesture. "That could get very interesting," she mused, before continuing on to the restroom.

* * *

Linda slipped into the pew next to Lucifer, with a small smile for his obvious discomfort. Perhaps it was Trixie's presence wedged between him and Chloe - though she was playing tic-tac-toe with her mother on the back of the church bulletin, she was leaning lightly against his leg - or maybe it was just that he was in a church. Seeing Linda, he observed dolefully, "I thought my sister liked me."

"She does," Linda replied, not bothering to hide her smile.

"Then why is she doing this to me?"

Trixie drew a triumphant line through her trio of Os, then turned to Lucifer. "Because she wants you to see her be an angel," she replied, as if it was obvious.

Lucifer peered down at the little girl. "That... makes sense, actually, when you think about it. Did she tell you that?"

"No," Trixie replied, turning to draw the grid for the next game and then handing the tiny pencil to her mother. "I just know."

Leaning closer to Lucifer, Linda smiled, her eyes alight with amusement. "Did you know that your sister has an admirer?"

"She does not!" Lucifer replied, his tone both entertained and disturbed. Shading toward the latter, he asked, "Who is it?"

"The young man who is playing Joseph," Linda replied. "I ran into them in the hall."

Trixie leaned across Lucifer's lap to address Linda, to his visible and audible discontent. "Rae has a boyfriend?"

Chloe, taking pity on her partner, gently reminded Trixie, "Personal space, Monkey. Give Lucifer a little room." She did, though, look for Linda's answer with amused interest.

"No, no," Linda replied. Perhaps that was the source of Lucifer's relief, or maybe it was that Trixie had moved. "I don't think Rae knows that he's interested."

"I should hope not," Lucifer grumbled. "That's just not right."

"You know, Lucifer," Trixie said blithely, marking an O and then handing the pencil back to her mother, "You're not the boss of Rae. She can have a boyfriend if she wants one."

Lucifer stretched, trying to get comfortable in the pew, and ignored the grins from Chloe and Linda. "Well, Beatrice, from what Doctor Linda says, she doesn't want one, so the point is moot."

"Actually, baby, Lucifer is the boss of Rae, at least right now," Chloe corrected lightly.

"No, I'm not."

"No, he's not."

After speaking at the same time, Trixie and Lucifer shared a grin of their own. Then the group, along with the rest of the congregation, fell quiet as the first of the children came out to introduce the play.

* * *

In later years, nobody could quite put their finger on what was so special about this particular play. It wasn't that the children gave flawless performances; far from it, and that was part of the charm. The smaller of the two sheep had to be carried away when his part was done, as his obvious desire was to remain on stage. The baby Jesus, upon seeing the angel, let out a crow of joy that delighted the audience. In the end, they never really figured out why that year's show felt different, but those who were there remembered it for years to come.

Lucifer, however, wasn't impressed. Of course, he knew the story of his youngest half-brother's birth, for all that he had been in Hell for some time when the events occurred. Poor Linda was subjected to his mutterings, including a choice gem about Joseph's inability to make hotel reservations. The children were children, forgettable at best, though he did keep his eye on Joseph. Azrael, he noted, had chosen to wear the fake wings. Brilliant, he thought. He was sure to hear about them later and his sister was right: the fake wings were atrocious, nothing like real wings for beauty or grandeur. Still, she was probably right to wear them. Even at a distance, her actual wings would have inspired comments and awkward questions.

Mercifully, the play came to an end, and the children took their bows. Lucifer applauded to be polite, and noted the enthusiasm of the detective's offspring. "Rae looked just like a real angel, didn't she?" she asked, looking up at him with a grin.

"Indeed," he replied noncommittally.

As the organ started up, he groaned, though quietly. He had forgotten about the carol-singing. Shaking his head, he squeezed past Linda and her understanding smile. His sister had made her own escape, so it was only fair that he do the same. He recognized the first song: Angels We Have Heard On High. If only the mortals knew who they had in their midst...

Watching Lucifer leave, Trixie whispered something to her mother, and the two slipped out as well.

On his way to the exit, Lucifer spotted a familiar figure standing at the back of the sanctuary.

"Brother," Lucifer greeted Amenadiel. "I hope you didn't miss all the fun."

Amenadiel smiled. "Maze told me about it," he replied, answering the question that Lucifer hadn't asked. "Laughing the whole time. I had to see for myself."

Wincing as one of the older women in the room hit a particularly shrill note, Lucifer cocked his head toward the door in inquiry. When Amenadiel nodded, he preceded his brother, continuing until they stood on the church steps. "Did we - or you, after I got kicked out - ever sing so that it echoed from the mountains?" he queried whimsically, lighting a cigarette and drawing deeply from it.

"Not that I recall," Amenadiel replied, stepping so he was upwind of his brother.

"Didn't think so." Lucifer looked up at the sky, addressing his father. "If that was meant to give me some grand epiphany, it didn't work."

Amenadiel made a sound halfway between a sigh and a chuckle. "Luci, why do you think that was about you?" Seeing his brother's look of incomprehension, he continued, "There were, what, a hundred people in there tonight? Maybe Azrael was supposed to reach one of them."

Lucifer took another drag on his cigarette. "But she didn't even use her real wings," he protested.

With a derisive laugh, Amenadiel queried, "Was that even an option? Thank goodness she didn't."

Lucifer exhaled a short, exasperated huff, but then a glint appeared in his eyes. "Do you know, that troglodyte who played Joseph has designs on our little sister." At Amenadiel's skeptical expression, he protested, "Doctor Linda told me. She wouldn't lie."

Amenadiel took a long moment to digest this information. Finally, he queried, a slow smile crossing his face, "Do you want to scare him off, brother, or shall I?"

Lucifer's answering smile could only be described as devilish. "Why not both of us?"

* * *

As the organ music started, Azrael slipped out of the crowd of children and out the side entrance. Resisting the urge to pull the fake wings from her back, she murmured a vague excuse to Ella about needing the bathroom, then hurried down the hall to that room. Once the door swung closed behind her, she let the fake wings fall to the floor. She knew that wearing them had been the right decision, and she had felt even more certain of that when she had seen her brother Amenadiel at the back of the sanctuary.

Still, it was with profound relief that she let her actual wings unfurl. Peering in the bathroom mirror, she started to pull out the bobby pins that held her tinsel halo in place. She listened carefully to the music, so she could be sure to tuck away her wings before the carol-singing had ended.

"Cool! Rae, why didn't you use those wings?"

Azrael had not counted on the fact that Trixie had consumed three glasses of apple juice before the play, and thus needed to be in that very room. She turned, automatically twitching her wing to keep it from catching on the chair to her right. Waiting in the doorway were Trixie, looking utterly delighted, and Chloe. The detective's face had gone pale, and her eyes were wide and shocked.

Azrael took a deep breath, trying to quell her incipient panic. They weren't supposed to be able to see... "Come in, would you? And... close the door."

* * *

 **As always, feedback is appreciated. :)**


	27. Chapter 27

Trixie darted past her mother and into the stall, while Chloe took a moment to collect herself before entering. She took a deep breath, shaking her head. Fake. They had to be. "Those wings are lovely," she said finally. "You should have used them for the play."

Azrael relaxed just a little, though the tension in her body was still evident. "Thank you," she replied after a moment, though she still watched for a further reaction from Chloe. "That's what Lucifer said."

Stepping closer, to get a better look at the wings, Chloe asked, "Did Lucifer get them for you?" As Trixie burst from the stall, she added automatically, "Hands, monkey."

Agreeably moving to wash her hands, Trixie replied, "They're real wings, Mommy. They moved; didn't you see?"

Azrael managed not to groan, but, just for a moment, she had a profoundly uncharitable thought about Trixie.

Shaking her head, Chloe pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and handed it to her daughter. "Of course they're not real, baby. People don't have wings. They just moved because Rae did."

Azrael cast a longing look at the door, but there was no way she could get past without putting away her wings, and doing that, of course, would make her precarious situation even worse.

Again, she had not counted on Trixie, who was her mother's daughter, especially where tenacity was concerned. "People don't have wings, but angels do," the little girl said, her voice full of confidence. She smiled brilliantly at Azrael, who shifted in place, avoiding the smaller girl's inquisitive gaze.

"Baby, you know it was just a play, right?" Chloe asked gently, eyeing her daughter with a little concern. "Rae isn't really an angel."

Trixie shook her head, insisting, "She is, Mommy! I thought so during the play, but when I saw her wings, I knew it."

Turning to Azrael, Chloe asked, "Could you help me out, here, Rae?"

"You _really_ don't want to bring me into this," Azrael said quietly, not meeting Chloe's gaze.

"Because she's an angel," Trixie insisted, with a grin for her friend. "That's so cool! Can you fly?"

Azrael responded with a weak smile.

Looking rather exasperated with both girls, Chloe said, "Trixie, angels aren't real, and of course she can't fly. Azrael, this is isn't funny! Stop playing with her and tell the truth."

Azrael closed her eyes in a silent plea for guidance. When she opened them, she was met with Trixie's hopeful expression and Chloe's irritation. There was no response from her father; of course there wasn't. "I don't think anybody thinks it's funny," she offered, with her best innocent look.

Trixie stepped close and grabbed her friend's hand. "You can tell her," she said earnestly.

Azrael took a deep breath. Was that a sign? While she wasn't asking for anything really blatant - the big signs didn't necessarily work out well, after all - something a little more specific would have been helpful. She leveled her gaze at Chloe. "Remember, you asked for this." She folded her wings, and they disappeared.

" _Cool_!" Trixie exulted, and Azrael couldn't help but smile. "See, Mommy?"

Chloe, eyes wide, stepped behind Azrael, running her hand lightly along the girl's back. "Where did they go?"

"Hey, ask before you touch," Azrael protested, twitching away from Chloe's hand. She added, with a nervous sound that was not quite a laugh, "Lucifer goes for that, but I'd rather some warning. As for where the wings go, I'm... honestly not sure. An alternate dimension, like missing socks? It's one of those questions best not thought about too hard, like whether the s or the c in scent is silent." Realizing that she was rambling, she closed her mouth firmly, waiting for the reaction.

"They can't be real," Chloe said slowly, one hand reaching for the wall, something to ground herself to reality. She was starting to sound more like she was trying to convince herself. "There have to be strings, or... something under the robe. A trick."

Azrael shook her head as she watched Chloe, almost smiling. "Your ability to keep to your beliefs is... well, it's really impressive." She shot another quick glance to Trixie, who watched the interplay intently, then nodded, committing herself. "Empirical evidence, right? That would do it? I thought I'd already provided that, but..." Azrael locked the door. When Chloe started forward in protest, she said, "It's just to keep more people from walking in, since I'm going to be in enough trouble as it is. If you want to leave, I won't try to stop you."

Chloe looked like she wanted to do just that, but Trixie urged, "Just let her show you, Mommy."

Azrael took a deep breath, then tugged on the tie to her robe, letting the costume fall to the ground. Under it, she wore a pair of leggings and a camisole. She turned her back to Chloe and, after checking for space, let her wings unfold. "Look as much as you like. No strings, I swear."

Chloe inhaled sharply. She moved closer to Azrael, carefully studying the feathers, the arching curve of the wings, the place where her wings met the rest of her body. "Lucifer," she managed. "The scars on his back..."

Azrael looked over her shoulder, trying to see Chloe through her feathers. "I get why he did it, mostly; he always did like grand gestures. But I still can't believe he had Mazikeen cut them off."

Chloe took in another sharp breath, and backed away from Azrael, though not so much that she ended up against the wall. She sank into the chair and then looked up at Azrael. "You have... wings." Trixie moved to stand near her mother, all but vibrating in her delight.

Azrael nodded, exhaling a shaky breath. "Yeah. You, uh, weren't supposed to be able to see them, though."

Chloe repeated, still looking rather stunned, "You have wings. Oh, my God."

" _No_ ," Azrael replied quickly, with a nervous grimace. "Only one of his less-favored offspring."

Chloe took a deep, trembling breath, but then her eyes widened as the first of many realizations struck. She struggled to her feet, placing herself between Azrael and Trixie. "On the internet, it said that Azrael was the Angel of-" She cut off her words, with a glance toward her daughter.

Azrael raised her hands slightly, palms toward Chloe, intending to negate any sense of threat. "I was," she agreed, her voice at the same volume as Chloe's. "Before I came to stay with my brother. Just now, I'm not sure who has the job, but it's not me. And even when I was, I never actually... I just made sure everyone ended up where they should." A note of entreaty in her voice she added, "I mean no harm to you and Trixie, I swear."

"Mommy, Rae wouldn't hurt us," Trixie said, sounding a little confused. "She's an _angel_! Angels are good."

"I wouldn't," Azrael concurred, with a quick smile for Trixie, though she did not confirm the inherent goodness of angels. Her smile disappeared, though, when she turned back to Chloe.

"And Lucifer... and Maze... oh, my God." Chloe rested a shaking hand on the wall.

With a jittery look skyward, Azrael said lightly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it if you would stop calling on him." As Chloe turned incomprehending eyes on her, Azrael added, "It's not like he's Beetlejuice and saying his name three times will bring him here, but I'd _really_ rather not attract my father's attention just now. As for Lucifer and Mazikeen, they're the same people they always were. Just... not people."

As Azrael's words registered, Chloe swallowed convulsively and echoed, "Your father."

Azrael widened her eyes meaningfully. "Yeah. Him."

"So Lucifer's daddy issues..." Chloe sat down heavily in the chair once more.

Azrael nodded grimly. "Not your usual, garden-variety sort of thing, no." She paused a beat. "Well, no, there was a garden," she amended, "but that was ages ago."

"The garden was real?" Chloe queried, drawing Trixie a little closer. "And the apple and... everything?"

"'Everything' is overstating things," Azrael replied, shaking her head. "I mean... some of those stories that got written down were third-hand accounts at best, and there's some seriously weird stuff in the Bible. But the garden? Yes. That was real. I think Lucifer got a bad rap for that one, though, if it's any consolation."

Chloe was silent for a long moment, shaking her head rather numbly. "I... We have to go." Still looking rather shell-shocked, Chloe got up and moved toward the door. "Come on, Monkey."

Trixie nodded to her mother, but flung herself at Azrael, locking her arms around her friend's waist. After a moment Azrael hugged Trixie in return, one wing curling around the little girl.

"How did you know?" Azrael asked, her voice very quiet.

Trixie frowned, groping for knowledge that was just out of reach. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just did." Eyes wide with anticipation, she asked, "So _can_ you fly?" Azrael lowered her head and whispered, "Yes. Best not to mention it to anyone, though." At least somebody was happy about this development.

Trixie nodded." They wouldn't believe me, anyway." Her expression going plaintive, she added, "Are you still coming over tomorrow?"

"Trixie," Chloe urged, a note of anxiety in her voice. Trixie hesitated.

"We'll see," Azrael replied gently, pulling her wing back. "Go to your mother, now."

Nodding, Trixie pulled away, her eyes wide with wonder.

Chloe unlocked the door, and the pair disappeared down the hallway.

The door closed. Azrael pulled on the robe once more and took a moment to indulge in some blistering profanity; the thought of what she had to do next terrified her enough that she felt she deserved the release. Still, she avoided blasphemy, sticking to scatological and copulatory oaths; she was upset, but not stupid. Opening the bathroom door, abandoning the fake wings on the floor, she found herself face to face with one of the older members of the congregation. Of course. Clearly the woman had heard at least some of her words, as she looked shocked and rather disapproving.

"Excuse me, Mrs. McElroy," Azrael said sweetly, summoning a smile as she brushed past the woman.

Mrs. McElroy peered into the bathroom, clearly expecting to see another source for the foul language. "You forgot your wings!" she called, but Azrael was already around the corner.

Azrael threaded her way through the post-play crowd in search of her brother, but she hadn't gotten far before she found herself being pulled into one of the small rooms off the hall. How could Lucifer have found out already? "It wasn't my fault," she protested, but it was Michael's hand gripping her wrist, not Lucifer's. She twisted away from the tall angel, slipping out of his grasp using one of Maze's milder tricks and eliciting an annoyed look from her brother. "What are you _doing_?" she hissed.

"Guilty conscience?" Michael queried, brows lifting. "What have you been up to?"

Azrael tried to leave, but Michael pushed the door closed, blocking her exit. "I have to go," she protested urgently. "Michael, stop."

Michael's expectant smile caught her attention. "You could go," he said, "but I think you'd regret it if you did."

Regarding her brother with narrowed eyes, Azrael folded her arms over her chest. "Make it quick," she said, her voice clipped and tense.

Looking honestly pleased for her, Michael said, "Father says that you can come home now. Just got word to bring you back." When Azrael fumbled for a chair, her expression stunned, he added, "This is not the response I was expecting, sister. I don't know, maybe a _thanks, Michael,_ something like that?"

"Thanks, Michael," Azrael said numbly. "But... now? You mean... _right_ _now_?"

"Yes, _right now,_ " Michael replied, a touch of impatience shading his tone. "You've been nagging me about this; I thought you'd jump at the chance. Do you have something better to do?"

"No, I..." Azrael raked a hand through her hair, sending the partially-attached tinsel into disarray and finding that the symbolism of her off-kilter halo suited her. "Can you give me a little time?"

Michael strode across the small room to look out the window, then back over his shoulder at his sister. "Father said now," he said, his brows lowering in concern. "He was very specific."

Azrael leaned back in her chair, eyes closing for a moment. "Of course he was," she whispered. Nausea churning in her stomach at the enormity of what she was doing, Azrael tipped her head back, staring at the ceiling. For once, she wasn't doing this to address her father, but rather to avoid her brother's reaction. She took a deep breath. "Michael, I can't go."

Silence.

When Michael didn't speak, Azrael looked over to see her brother staring at her, eyes wide with shock. "Why not?" he demanded finally. "Little sister, this offer may not come again. Think about what you're saying."

"I can't," Azrael repeated softly. "I... Chloe, Lucifer's mortal partner-"

"I know who she is," Michael interrupted.

That caught Azrael's attention, and she regarded her brother with suspicion. No time for that now, though. "She saw my wings," she admitted. "She and her daughter."

Michael rocked back on his feet, his expression somewhere between anger and shock. "You _showed_ them? Azrael, you know that's forbidden!"

Getting to her feet, Azrael shook her head. "I did not show them," she insisted in a fierce whisper. "They _saw_ , when they should not have been able to see. I have to go, Michael. I have to warn Lucifer that Chloe knows."

"Lucifer can handle everything here. He has these mortals eating out of his hands." Michael's lip curled in disgust. "And other places."

Even in her distress, Azrael paused to stare at her brother. "I do not want to know how you know that."

Michael looked away, clearly not inclined to answer, then back to his sister. "You're really staying?" When Azrael nodded, her face too calm but her hands trembling, he stepped forward and rested his hands on her shoulders. Azrael twitched, but did not move away. "I think you're making a mistake," he said slowly, "but I know better than to try and talk you out of something when you've set your mind to it." He looked for a moment like he was going to hug her, but something about her brittle manner forbade such intimacy, so he rather awkwardly patted one shoulder instead. "When you're ready to come home, call for me," he said. "I don't know that Father will still be willing to allow it, but I can ask."

Azrael nodded, her jaw working for a moment before she smoothed her expression. "Thank you, brother."

She turned and exited, closing the door on an empty room.

* * *

 **Author's note: Hope you enjoyed it! Unfortunately, work is about to get very intense for at least one week (getting two weeks' worth done in one so I can go to a conference, thus turning my brain to the consistency of Dan's pudding) or possibly two weeks (attending said conference, which will wear out my introverted self). Adding in some familial obligations over the weekend doesn't help, but I'll do my best to get out the next chapter as soon as I can.**


	28. Chapter 28

Firmly gripping Trixie's hand, Chloe made her way through the church. Church. Was she going to have to start going to church? She had so many questions roiling in her brain that she was having a hard time focusing on just one. She detoured around a priest - looked like a nice enough guy, but he was honestly not the person she wanted to talk to just now - and in doing so nearly ran into Linda.

"Hey, there," Linda said brightly. "I was wondering where everyone went." Catching sight of Chloe's strained expression, she guided the detective and Trixie through the front door of the church, out of the crush of the crowd and into the cooler air outside. "What happened?" she asked, her expression concerned.

Trixie had gone along quietly with her mother, despite having seen another child come down the hall with what she was fairly certain was a chocolate cupcake, but could contain her excitement no longer. Breaking away from her mother, she asked gleefully, though at a relatively low volume, "Doctor Linda, did you know that Rae can fly?"

"Really?" Linda replied after the briefest of pauses and a darted glance to Chloe, almost sounding like she was humoring Trixie. "I didn't know that. How wonderful for her. That sounds like a lot of fun."

Chloe regarded Linda through narrowed eyes. She had been watching the therapist, and had noticed her reaction, slight as it was. "You _know_ ," she breathed.

" _You_ know?" Linda gasped. "Chloe, when? How did you find out?"

"Just now," Chloe replied, still sounding a little stunned.

Linda exhaled a soft sound of surprise. "Okay, let's go back to your place," she said reassuringly. "Are you okay to drive?"

Chloe took a moment to consider her answer. "Yes," she said finally. "Yes, I'll be okay. Thanks, Linda."

* * *

Not much later, Chloe let Linda into her place. "The Christmas decorations seem... a little surreal, in light of all this," she admitted, indicating the tree and the stockings - including, at Trixie's insistence, one for Maze. Initially skeptical, the demon had acquiesced to the stocking when she'd learned that presents would be involved. Chloe hadn't commented when the red, fluffy stocking she had purchased had been replaced with a black leather one. Maze hadn't commented when Trixie had written MAZE on the stocking in silver puffy paint. Compromise.

"Right?" Linda agreed, as the pair moved to the couch. She hadn't realized how much she needed someone to confide in about their bizarre situation. Fortunately, she had discussed it all with Maze, and so wouldn't be breaching confidentiality. "I put up my tree last week and kind of had a moment." Looking over at Chloe, she added, "How's Trixie handling it?"

Chloe shook her head, her smile fond but a little disbelieving. "She thinks it's the best thing ever. I'm pretty sure I managed to convince her that asking Rae to come to school for show-and-tell was a bad idea. She's upstairs now."

"Ah, the resilience of the young," Linda observed, with a smile of her own. "And how are you? I have to ask... how did you find out?"

Chloe leaned back against the couch, her eyes closing. "I don't know, Linda. This is huge." She did not open her eyes as she continued speaking. "I found out because of the apple juice."

When Chloe didn't seem to be forthcoming with more information, Linda prompted, "Was there something... special about the juice? I mean, I've heard of holy water..."

"What? No." Chloe almost smiled. "It's just that Trixie drank so much of it. I was sure she wouldn't make it through the play, but she insisted on watching Rae. We slipped out during the carol-singing, and when we got to the bathroom, Rae was there. And she had _wings_." She opened her eyes and turned to Linda. "Actual wings. Not the ones from the play."

"Oh," Linda breathed, one hand lifting to her mouth for a moment. "Oh, she got her wings back. She must be so happy."

Looking puzzled, Chloe said, "Did she not always have wings? And... how is she a child, Linda?"

Shaking her head, Linda couldn't help but smile. "No, the wings are new, apparently. Well, not _new_ new. She had them before she came to stay with Lucifer, but not when she got here. I'm not really sure why. As for how she's a child, well, she's not. She told me her father sent her here to learn humility and I suppose that being in a child's body is a quicker way to accomplish that."

"Her father," Chloe echoed. "I mean, I never believed in God. This feels so weird. I mean... he's real, right? He's Lucifer and Rae's father. Dear old Dad," she added, in a not particularly accurate mimicry of Lucifer's accent. "But it still doesn't feel real."

"Of course it doesn't," Linda replied gently. "Chloe, you just found out about all this. It's a little to take in."

Shaking her head, Chloe exhaled a soft, disbelieving breath. "This... guy that I've been thinking was a awful parent... is God. _The_ God."

"And look at you," Linda encouraged. "Criticizing him, but not struck by lightning or anything." When Chloe turned to stare at her, Linda asked, "Too soon? Sorry." After a thoughtful pause, she added, "I keep thinking about that - what Lucifer has told us about his father doesn't really match up with how I've always thought about God."

Chloe nodded, clearly groping for words." I thought that God was supposed to be... nice. Or at least not a jerk. But the way he's treated Lucifer and Rae... "

Shifting back on the couch, Linda said, "So think about something your mother did that annoyed you." She knew Chloe well enough that she didn't have to ask if there was such an instance, and the detective soon made a small, impolite noise. "Would she describe that event the same way you would?" Seeing Chloe's eyebrows lift thoughtfully, Linda nodded. "They may be celestial beings, but they're also a family - and a pretty dysfunctional one, from the sounds of it. Not that I think Rae's lying, and I'm sure Lucifer isn't, but their father may have a different take on all this."

"Their father... God." With a slightly hysterical laugh, Chloe added, "Imagine that family therapy session."

"I don't have to," Linda replied, her brows arching meaningfully. "I mean, their father obviously hasn't shown up, not even their mother, but you would not believe some of the things that have happened in my office."

Chloe paused as she made the connection. "Their mother? I know Charlotte Richards is Rae's mom, but she's Lucifer's mother, too? And Amenadiel's?" Seeing Linda's nod, she frowned, her brows furrowing. "How is that even possible? Charlotte Richards... I mean, she used to be a cop before she was a lawyer. She has history here."

Linda smiled. She explained the situation with Lucifer's mother, talking Chloe through the takeover of Charlotte Richards' body and the sentence that Lucifer had imposed.

"Her poor family," Chloe murmured. "I mean, Charlotte's family. The actual Charlotte, not the... the Goddess. This has got to be so weird for them. But that explains why Lucifer kept insisting that he hadn't had sex with her."

"Right," Linda agreed, not bothering to hide her smile. She looked shrewdly at Chloe and suggested, "But we haven't really gotten to the elephant in the room, have we?"

Chloe didn't speak for a long moment. "No," she agreed finally. "It's Lucifer. If Rae is really an angel, then he's really the Devil, right? Linda, I'm friends with the Devil." Realization struck, and she turned wide-eyed to the therapist. "And you! You had sex with the Devil!"

For a moment, Linda's gaze went distant and reflective. She smiled. "Trust me," she said archly, "when I say that sex with the Devil is not a bad thing."

Chloe's eyebrows lifted and she didn't comment, though her cheeks went a little pink.

"But, really," Linda continued, her expression full of empathy, "he's still the same person - well, devil - that he always was."

After a moment, Chloe nodded. "He is," she agreed quietly, her expression thoughtful but still troubled. "And Maze... she's really a demon? Forged in the bowels of Hell? "

Linda nodded, with a fond smile for the mention of her friend. "She is, but, Chloe, she's come so far." She paused. "Not that I'm by any way an expert on this. I haven't met any other demons - well, that I know of - but I know I'd trust Maze with my life."

"I still can't - " Chloe began, sounding entirely disbelieving, "A demon. I live with a demon. I let her watch my daughter. I just really need my roommate to be somebody I can count on, and I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really can count on her. I mean, I don't think she's ever going to put dishes away without being threatened first, but I know she always has my back."

The two women talked long into the night, eventually making screwdrivers with the vodka that Linda had picked up on the way, anticipating that alcohol might come in handy. Feeling that forewarned was forearmed, Linda warned Chloe about Lucifer's other form. Chloe was somewhat dismayed, even when Linda assured her that, despite looking a little gruesome, Lucifer felt no pain. The conversation meandered as Chloe made new connections, and Linda was forthright and reassuring.

At the end of the evening, Linda took a Lyft home, promising to return the next day for her car. Chloe, after looking in on Trixie, collapsed into her bed, her head spinning with the alcohol and with everything she had learned. Blearily, she reached for her phone and scrolled through her contacts to find Lucifer's name. Trixie had at some point added a devil emoji, and Chloe smiled to see it, her thumb hovering over the screen. For all the information that Linda had given her, she knew she needed to talk to Lucifer. She took a deep breath, considering the phone for a moment longer, then pushed the power button, blanking the screen. She did need to talk with Lucifer, but tomorrow was soon enough.

* * *

 _Concurrently_

Trixie paused outside her room, hearing a soft, familiar snicking sound from down the hallway. She turned and, seeing that Maze's door was open a crack, bounded to it and knocked. Her mother had told her - several times, actually - how important it was that she always, _always_ knock before going into Maze's room.

"Who is it?"

"Maze, it's me!"

A pause. "Me who?"

"It's Trixie! Can I come in?"

The tip of one high-heeled boot worked its way in the small opening between the door and the doorjamb, then pulled the door open. "Come on, little human," Maze replied with a smile. She sat on her bed with an array of knives, sharpening one of them.

Trixie moved to lean against the edge of the bed, considering the knives with interest. Her mother had said to be very, _very_ careful around Maze's knives. (Her mother tended to repeat words a lot where Maze was concerned.) "Hi!" she added brightly.

"You look particularly happy today," Maze observed, running the blade along the whetstone in smooth, easy strokes. "How come? Is there cake downstairs?"

"No," Trixie replied with a sigh, still lamenting the lost chocolate cupcake from St. Brennan's. "But I saw the play today, at Rae's church. It was really good."

After a derisive sound at the thought of the play - or anything at a church, really - bring good, Maze looked over with interest. "Did somebody get video? I _told_ Linda..." Seeing the little girl's nod, Maze smirked, pleased. It was always good to have blackmail material. Azrael might be in a mortal body now, but that could change, and knowing that she could have dirt on the Angel of Death made Maze extremely happy.

But Trixie was still talking. "... and she has _wings_ , Maze! She said she can fly, and it's so _cool_!"

The knife stopped its motion on the whetstone. Maze lifted her eyes to consider the excited little girl before her.

Trixie faltered. "You knew that, right? That Rae's an angel?" Her voice dropped to a whisper at the last word. "Mommy said don't just tell people, but you knew, right, Maze?"

"Yeah, kid," Maze replied after a moment. "I knew. So..." The demon cleared her throat. "So your mom knows, too?"

Trixie nodded, her eyes rounding. "She was surprised. She's downstairs talking to Doctor Linda."

Maze admired the little human's gift for understatement. Surprised. She just bet. "Good," she decided. "Linda will help." She started sharpening her knife again, the familiar motion soothing. Realizing that she was using too much pressure, Maze lightened her touch. Cocking an eyebrow at Trixie, she queried, her tone not quite casual enough, "So she just... _told_ you she's an angel?"

Trixie shook her head, pigtails flying. "No. We went in the bathroom because I had too much apple juice, and Rae was there and she had these wings. Maze, they're so pretty!"

Maze huffed a short, derisive noise. "Of course it was apple juice. Can't get away from apples."

"Maze?"

The demon looked up, continuing the motion of knife on whetstone with ease. "Yeah?"

Almost, Trixie looked shy. "Are you an angel, too? "

Maze bit back her initial response, though her grip tightened for a moment on the knife. She didn't want to scare the kid, not when she was innocent of the insult she had given. Maze spoke carefully. "No, I'm something else. I'm a demon. It's the opposite of an angel. Kind of like how I like chocolate cake, and she likes vanilla."

Trixie considered the news for a moment and then nodded, apparently taking it in stride. She knew Maze, after all. "I don't know why everybody doesn't like chocolate best," she confided.

Maze smiled.

Trixie gestured to the whetstone. "Can I do that?"

Maze considered. It was a useful skill, really, one that every girl should know. The fact that it would tie Decker's panties in a knot was just a bonus. She patted the bed, indicating a closer spot. "C'mere. I'll show you."

Maze was not naturally a reflective individual. As she guided Trixie's hands, helping the little girl get just the right angle to put a keen edge on her blade, she couldn't help but think, just a little, on how her life had changed. Much as it still surprised her, some humans weren't awful. And if Lucifer's stupid little sister had messed everything up... well, there would have to be consequences.

Grinning up at Maze, Trixie got to her feet. "Thanks," the little girl said. She leaned in to hug Maze, then skipped to the door. "That was fun!"

"You're welcome, little human," Maze replied, with a distant smile of her own. She put away most of her knives, but took care to secret her Hell-forged blades in their usual spots, and to tuck another in the sheath in her boot. Slipping out of her room, she moved stealthily to the top of the stairs, where she could hear Chloe and Linda talking.

"I just," the detective began, sounding entirely disbelieving, "A demon. I live with a demon. I let her watch my daughter. I just really need my roommate to be somebody I can count on, and I can't -"

Right. A demon. Someone not to be counted on. Maze moved through the apartment, her supernatural speed ensuring that the two women didn't notice her presence. Time for consequences.

* * *

 **Author's note: This came in under the wire, as I leave for my trip in half an hour. ;) Hopefully I'll have some writing time this week.**

 **As always, feedback is appreciated!**


	29. Chapter 29

**Author's note: Thanks to occasionalreader for wanting to see Lucifer and Amenadiel with Jack. I hadn't planned to write that, and it took things in a slightly slightly different direction. Also thanks to Leonore09 for insight on why Azrael pushed Chloe to see that her wings were real.**

* * *

"No." Despite her refusal, Ella laughed, shaking her head at Lucifer and Amenadiel. "No way."

"Come on, Miss Lopez," Lucifer wheedled, his charm turned up to eleven. "Help a brother out." Catching Amenadiel's raised eyebrow, he added, "I'm Rae's brother; that's what I meant."

Gathering up a pile of discarded costumes, Ella moved to a hanging rack in the room that had served as a staging area for the play. "That's why I'm not telling you where Jack is," she replied with a grin, starting to put costumes on hangers. "I have brothers, remember? And most of them are older. I like Rae. I wouldn't help you embarrass her like that."

Trailing behind the forensic tech, Lucifer protested, "We wouldn't embarrass her at all. We just want to..." He shot a brief grin over his shoulder at Amenadiel. "... ascertain the young man's intentions."

"Which would embarrass her," Ella completed, not fooled in the slightest. "You don't have to worry about Jack. He's a good kid, I promise. I mean, he's an altar boy."

Lucifer drew himself upright, brows lifting. "An altar boy, really? Serving dear old Dad? Well, we can't have that, not for Rae."

"Nothing wrong with altar boys," Ella said brightly. "I mean, I dated an altar boy and we... actually, never mind, don't listen to me." She paused. "But we were older than Rae and Jack. A lot older. And he was a _former_ altar boy."

Leaning closer to Ella, Lucifer purred, "That sounds like a story for later."

Ella smiled, but made no promises.

Amenadiel nodded to the entrance, where Jack had entered, a pair of cookies in hand. "Luci, there he is."

"Ah, yes," Lucifer agreed. He considered the young man: not overly tall, but there was time enough for that to change. Dark hair in need of cutting, flopping in his eyes... or maybe that was the intended style? He could be attractive to boys and girls of that age, Lucifer supposed, in a non-threatening, boy band sort of way. "Thank you, Miss Lopez," he said, with a vaguely predatory grin in Jack's direction. "You have been absolutely no help whatsoever. Now, if you will excuse us..." He strode lithely across the room, Amenadiel in his wake, and approached the boy. "Hello, Jack," Lucifer said brightly, popping the final consonant.

"Hi," Jack replied, sounding puzzled. He attempted to move past the pair, but found his movement arrested by Lucifer's hand on his shoulder. "Uh, do I know you?"

Lucifer steered the young man to the opposite end of the room, though Ella still kept an eye on the trio. "Lucifer," that person explained, indicating himself. With a nod to his looming brother, he added, "Amenadiel. And we've already established your identity."

"Lucifer?" Jack echoed. A good Catholic boy, he had obviously heard the name, and studied Lucifer with wary interest before replying, "Wicked."

Lucifer grinned despite himself. "Yes, quite," he agreed. Expression sobering, he added, "We recently learned that you have an interest in - wait, where did you get those cookies?"

"Focus, Luci," Amenadiel rumbled, folding his arms over his chest

Jack pulled his gaze from Amenadiel's biceps to gesture back the way he had come. "The fellowship hall. There's a lot more, if you want some."

Lucifer cast a look in the direction that Jack had indicated, but a nudge from Amenadiel got him back on track. "Right. We've heard that you're interested in our sister."

His expression perplexed, Jack queried, "Who is your sister?" He flicked his gaze between Lucifer and Amenadiel, brows lowering. "You guys are brothers?"

The siblings looked at each other, then leveled their collective gazes on Jack. He edged back a step.

"Of course we're brothers," Lucifer replied, sounding exasperated. "Why wouldn't we be? And our sister is Rae. Azrael." He gestured vaguely toward the sanctuary. "The angel in tonight's ridiculous performance."

Jack's expression cleared. "Oh, Rae," he said. He nodded, though not without a trace of uneasiness, aimed mostly at Amenadiel. His brows lowering, he asked, "How are you guys Rae's brothers?"

"We have a very large family," Amenadiel replied, his voice deep and not particularly reassuring.

Jack looked up, and then up a little more. "Yeah," he agreed. "Okay." He didn't seem inclined to add to the conversation.

With an exasperated huff, Lucifer said, "There's a much simpler way to do this." He leaned down, catching Jack's suddenly fascinated gaze. "Tell me, what is it you desire?"

* * *

Azrael made her way into the room, and was almost immediately swept into a hug by Ella. "Hey, chickie, you were great!" When Azrael didn't respond, Ella pulled away a little and asked, "Everything okay?"

Azrael look a deep breath. "I... sorry, I just need to talk with my brother."

Ella nodded agreeably. "No problem. Just don't forget to give me your robe and your wings before you leave." She straightened the cockeyed halo, with a smile, adding, "You can keep this, though. It suits you."

Azrael nodded, rummaging in her cat backpack for the clothes she had worn to the church, exchanging the robe for a simple red knit dress. She handed the robe to Ella, then froze as she caught sight of Amenadiel and Lucifer with Jack. "What are they doing?" she asked, her gaze not leaving her brothers.

"I did not tell them that Jack likes you," Ella assured her. "But they found out somehow and... well, brothers. You know how they can be."

Azrael watched them in silence for a moment. "Linda must have told them," she decided, with a sigh of frustration.

"She must not have brothers," Ella suggested, hiding a grin.

Azrael nodded. "They're going to ruin everything." She strode purposefully over to the group. Just then, anger was easier than fear.

Watching her, Ella let out a low whistle, then trailed along behind the girl.

"There you are," Lucifer greeted Azrael, with a bright grin. "Sad news, little sis. He's interested in you, but more interested in playing pro basketball."

Azrael glared at her brothers, rounding on Lucifer. "What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice quiet but intent. "This is completely unnecessary."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed unrepentantly, "but it was amusing, and after sitting through that fiasco of a play, I deserve a little entertainment."

Jack, his eyes still a little glazed, blinked at Azrael in some befuddlement. "Why did I tell him all that?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry, Jack," Azrael said, stepping closer to the boy. "My brothers are..." She sighed and shook her head, clearly not finding the words.

Amenadiel cleared his throat. " _I_ didn't do anything," he pointed out. Azrael ignored him.

Jack smiled. "It's okay." He darted a glance toward Lucifer and Amenadiel. Then, in a daring move, he stepped forward and kissed Azrael's cheek before bolting out of the room.

Hooting gleefully, Lucifer called after the boy, "You need to work on your technique, but extra points for moxie." Azrael looked after Jack, and Lucifer added, "You're better off without him, little sister. His mind isn't complex at all; he folded like a cheap suit."

Azrael turned back to the others, her lips compressed into a thin line. "I need to talk to you two privately. Now, if you please." She stalked to the exit opposite the one Jack had taken, clearly expecting her brothers to follow.

"Was that her first kiss?" Ella asked Lucifer, brows lifted.

"I have no idea," Lucifer replied, looking after his sister, "I certainly hope not; it was dreadful." Turning back to Ella, he added, "She's a real peach when she gets her dander up, eh?"

Ella nodded, her expression full of sympathy. "She's at that age where everything starts getting complicated. I thought my brother Manny was going to lock my oldest niece in a convent when she was eleven."

"A convent, there's a thought," Lucifer said, turning to Amenadiel with a grin. "Dad would approve, don't you think?"

Amenadiel forebore from rolling his eyes. "Come on, Luci," he said, with a nod to where their sister was waiting, clearly tense.

With a rather exasperated sigh, Lucifer nodded and started across the room. "Good evening, Miss Lopez."

"Good luck," Ella replied brightly.

Azrael watched her brothers approach, then glanced around the room. A few people milled around, cleaning or just chatting, and then there was Ella, watching with interest. When Lucifer and Amenadiel reached her side, she moved down the hall and into the room where she and Michael had spoken recently, pushing open the door so her brothers could precede her.

"Here? Are you sure?" Lucifer asked, looking amused. "I mean, there's always the confessional. I can be really creative when it comes to penance."

Azrael shot a look over her shoulder at the church's exit. "Here, please."

Lucifer shrugged his acquiescence and moved into the room, Amenadiel following. Azrael brought up the rear, closing the door behind them.

"Lucifer, why would you do that?" she demanded.

"Rae -" Lucifer began, still clearly seeing the humor in the situation despite his sister's upset.

Azrael interrupted, on a roll, "It's not like he's one of your criminals. He's a child!"

"Rae." Lucifer's brows lowered, and he exchanged glances with Amenadiel, who shrugged. He surely had no idea why Azrael was reacting this way.

"Just because you got the idea that he's interested in me - which I don't reciprocate, obviously - you think it's appropriate to mess with his brain like that?"

"Rae!"

"Lucifer, will you please stop saying my name?"

Lucifer stepped to his sister's side and rested a hand on her shoulder, brows lifting when she stiffened. "Sit down," he said gently. "You're shaking."

Just when she needed it the most, Azrael's anger drained away, leaving only a cold, hard knot of fear. She nodded, easing herself into one of the uncomfortable wooden chairs.

"What's all this about?" Lucifer asked, tucking his hands in his pocket and looking down on his sister in sincere puzzlement. "You can't honestly be this upset about the boy..."

"He's not worth it," Amenadiel murmured, eliciting a brief grin from Lucifer.

Azrael shook her head. "Of course I'm not," she replied. "I mean, I was hoping he'd keep his distance, as the last thing I need right now is some boy mooning after me, but -" She shook her head, her mouth working for a moment. "Amenadiel is right. He's not important. I just... I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" Amenadiel asked.

Seeing her brothers' expressions - Lucifer expectant and still a bit amused, while Amenadiel looked a little wary - Azrael swallowed, then asked Lucifer, "Do you have your flask?"

Lucifer grinned his encouragement. "Falling off the wagon? I couldn't think of a better place. Almost had a nip, myself, during that ridiculous production." He pulled his flask out of his pocket and offered it to his sister.

Azrael knocked back a healthy slug, then returned the flask to Lucifer. When the liquid courage didn't seem to suffice, Lucifer urged, "Come on, then. It can't be as bad as all that."

"Yes, it can," Amenadiel muttered.

"Well, unless the Boy Wonder out there got you pregnant," Lucifer added, clearly in jest. "In which case we'll obviously have to kill him." When Azrael didn't smile, his brows lowered. "He didn't, did he? I mean, judging from that kiss, I wouldn't think he knows how..."

Azrael made a short, exasperated sound. "No, he didn't, because it's _not possible_. Even if he did, I'd be at least as responsible as he was. Brother, if you would stop trying to be funny, I'll tell you." She took a deep breath and then looked away, scrupulously avoiding eye contact. "Chloe knows."

"Lovely," Lucifer replied lightly. "Knows what? You're being a tad opaque, Rae."

Azrael shot a quick glance at Amenadiel, then admitted, "She saw my wings."

"She what?" Azrael flinched at Amenadiel's harsh tone. Though he did have the self-awareness to keep his volume down, he made up for that in intensity. "Azrael, I warned you to be careful about that. You just couldn't resist showing them off, could you? Or are you too busy playing at being human to listen to your elders?"

Azrael risked a look at Lucifer; his expression was curiously blank. Turning back to Amenadiel, she replied, tone defensive, "I was being careful, I swear. They shouldn't have been able to see! It's not like I was... was flaunting my wings."

Amenadiel looked thoughtful for a split second, then shook his head and began a heated response. Lucifer interrupted, his voice deadly calm. "Be quiet, both of you. Azrael, what... how did the Detective respond?"

"She didn't think they were real," Azrael replied, and the overall tension among the males in the room in the room ratcheted down a notch.

"But you said she knows..." Amenadiel began, his tone implying that Azrael should continue.

Azrael nodded. "She does," she agreed, her voice quiet. When the silence dragged on and Amenadiel advanced on Azrael, a possible attempt at shaking the information out of her thwarted by Lucifer's hand on his arm, she confessed, rattling out the words in short bursts as if saying them faster would make them easier to hear, "I... made her see. Put my wings away, brought them back. Let her look, really look. So she'd know it wasn't a trick."

Amenadiel started forward again, this time without hindrance from Lucifer, who was watching his siblings but not quite seeing them. Amenadiel rested his hands on the arms of his sister's chair and leaned down, effectively trapping her in the seat. "What were you thinking?" he demanded, enunciating each word with deliberate care, his voice a low rumble.

Azrael's jaw worked for a moment. She didn't look away from Amenadiel; his proximity made that all but impossible. Her voice small but still distinct, she replied, "She wanted me to tell Trixie that angels aren't real."

"Then you tell Trixie that angels aren't real," Amenadiel replied, all but growling.

"Why should I?" Suddenly furious, Azrael shoved Amenadiel hard, though her mass wasn't enough to displace him and he smirked down at her. With an inarticulate sound of frustrated anger, she lunged up, catching his face hard with the top of her head, the tinsel halo coming off in a shower of bobby pins. She skittered past her brother when Amenadiel recoiled, lifting one hand to his nose. "Why should I?" she repeated, her eyes glistening. "I'm already trapped in this body. I'm not going to deny what I am. Not like that. Not to people who matter."

Amenadiel started after Azrael, but Lucifer interspersed himself between the two. "Enough." While his voice was quiet, the steel in his tone and the brief red glint to his eyes were enough to bring Azrael, at least, to heel. Amenadiel took a moment longer, but subsided as well, moving to sit in the chair his sister had recently occupied and wiping the blood from his nose with the back of his hand.

Taking note of the blood, Lucifer almost smiled. "She's been training with Maze. What did you expect? You're lucky she chose that target."

"She caught me off guard," Amenadiel muttered, chagrined.

"She shouldn't have," Lucifer replied.

" _She_ has a name," Azrael replied, though not without a triumphant look at Amenadiel. It was not every day, after all, that one bested the Firstborn.

Lucifer turned to his sister, whose self-satisfied look smoothed to one of careful neutrality. "Didn't you just ask me to _stop_ saying your name?" She lowered her gaze, lifting a hand to rub the top of her head, and Lucifer continued abruptly, "Now. Share with the class, what was the Detective's response to your revelation?"

Azrael took a deep breath. "She was shocked," she replied. "Called on our father a few times. Asked a few questions. Then she left." Lucifer made a wry face at the mention of their father, and Azrael clarified, "She wasn't really calling on him. I mean, she doesn't - didn't - believe in him, right? She just... said the words. There was nothing behind them."

"No, she doesn't" Lucifer murmured, "And what a lovely thought, not believing in him."

Azrael hesitated, then asked Lucifer, "You're not angry?" She did not ask Amenadiel if he was angry. Noting the pointed omission, he shook his head with a soft, annoyed exhalation, then got to his feet and stalked silently out of the room.

"What, that the Detective knows our dirty little secret?" Lucifer shook his head, looking thoughtfully after Amenadiel. "It's not like I haven't told her as much a thousand times. I am a little put out that you're the one that finally convinced her, but..." He lifted his shoulders in an eloquent shrug. "It'll make things interesting, assuming she doesn't head for the hills."

Azrael exhaled a quiet sound of relief. "She won't leave." Ignoring Amenadiel's departure, Azrael tipped her head to one side, watching Lucifer with a small smile. "You could have convinced her any time you wanted, just by showing her Mr. Crispy."

"Mr. Crispy," Lucifer echoed, clearly torn between amusement and umbrage.

Azrael gestured vaguely at Lucifer. "You know. Your other form."

"I know what you mean," he replied pointedly. "But must you call it that?"

"Not if it bothers you," Azrael replied easily. "Sorry."

"It's just a little flippant, is all."

Azrael smiled just a little. "Says the epitome of seriousness and respect."

"Now, now, do as I say, not as I do," Lucifer chided. "As for why I didn't show the Detective my other side, you know what it does to humans. I thought I'd broken Doctor Linda when she saw."

With a thoughtful nod, Azrael replied, "Nothing against Linda, but Chloe's different."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed reflectively. "She is, isn't she?"

"Just... go slowly," Azrael suggested. "Don't rush over there and hash it out tonight." When Lucifer started to protest, she said, "She needs time to think about all this, brother. Really."

Lucifer nodded slowly. "I suppose," he agreed reluctantly. "I just want to make sure she's all right."

"You can," Azrael reassured. "Just maybe give her until tomorrow."

With a nod of acquiescence, Lucifer looked in the direction Amenadiel had taken. "You may have made an enemy there."

Azrael shrugged, though her unconcern didn't entirely ring true. "It'll be fine. He's gone off to sulk, but he'll get over it."

Lucifer smiled. "Sounds like someone else I know," he needled gently.

"I," Azrael replied with dignity, "do not sulk." At Lucifer's upraised eyebrow, she amended, "Much. Glad you were here, though. That could have gotten ugly."

"Funny how I was the voice of reason," Lucifer observed, inclining his head in acknowledgement. He regarded his sister thoughtfully, reaching to rest a hand on her shoulder. "Not that I don't have the occasional desire to bash our brother in the face, but that's not really your modus operandi. Everything okay?"

Azrael inhaled a shaky breath, caught off guard by Lucifer's kindness just as Amenadiel had been by her head butt. She regarded her brother, then looked away, nodding. She couldn't tell him what had happened with Michael. Not now. "Of course," she replied quietly.

Lucifer was silent for a moment. "If you're going to lie to me, Azrael," he said coolly, lifting his hand from her shoulder "You might at least try to be more convincing." Adjusting his cuffs, he added, turning toward the door, "I've spent quite enough time in this place. Coming?"

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "I... I have some things to finish up here. I'll get a Lyft or something later." She hesitated, then called, "Luci?" He turned, one hand on the doorknob. "Thanks for coming today. I know you didn't want to do it."

Lucifer nodded and left the room. Azrael sank onto a bench and let her head fall into in her hands. She remained that way for several minutes, rocking slightly, shoulders shaking, and so didn't notice the door opening, or even the dark-haired figure sitting next to her on the bench. She startled when she felt the arm around her shoulders, lifting her head and wiping hurriedly at her eyes.

"C'mere, chickie," Ella urged. "Come on, it's okay."

"No, it's not," Azrael replied miserably, though she leaned against Ella, her eyes closing. Sometimes, occasionally, rarely, her father managed to send just the right person at precisely the right time.


	30. Chapter 30

**Author's note: This picks up at the end of the previous chapter. Lucifer and Chloe's talk will be in the next chapter.**

 **The characterization of Raziel is from Christopher Moore's _Lamb._**

* * *

"So," Ella said slowly, when Azrael's breathing had evened out and the silence had grown too heavy, "Tough day?"

Azrael pulled away a little, with a humorless chuckle. "You could say that," she agreed. "Thanks for coming to check on me, Ella. I appreciate it."

Ella bumped Azrael lightly with her shoulder and said, "I swear, you're the oldest little kid I've ever met. You don't need to thank me for something like that." She was quiet a moment, then asked gently, "Want to talk about it?"

Yes. Yes, Azrael wanted to talk about it. But talking about it would require explanations that Azrael was not prepared to give, and that Ella was definitely not prepared to hear, so she shook her head. After a moment, she replied, "It's just... family stuff. It's a little complicated." She added, with a faint smile, "And I guarantee that you will never meet an older kid than me."

"Up to you if you don't want to talk," Ella replied amiably, "But I'm good at complicated, and sometimes it helps to talk things out." When Azrael didn't reply, Ella asked, "Did your brothers take off?"

"Yes," Azrael replied. "I know Lucifer did, at least, and I'll bet Amenadiel did as well. He was, uh, pretty mad."

"He did look like he wanted to hit somebody," Ella agreed. Looking as if inspiration had struck, she asked, "Got plans for tonight?" Azrael shook her head, and Ella grinned. "Okay. How about this: we pick up a pizza, go back to my place and watch some ridiculous movie. Sound good?" Her enthusiasm for the plan was clear.

"But it's Saturday night," Azrael replied, puzzled. "Don't you have something better to do?" Unspoken but obvious was her assumption that this was a pity invitation. Why else, after all, would Ella want to hang out with someone she perceived to be a kid, even if said kid was the oldest living eleven year-old.

"What's better than this?" Ella asked, with all apparent sincerity. "C'mon, chickie, let's go! You like anchovies on your pizza, right?" Seeing Azrael's dubious look, she laughed as she got to her feet. "Kidding! Oh, by the way, Mrs. McElroy turned in your wings. She said you have an... interesting vocabulary." Though Ella didn't elaborate, the amused glint in her eyes made it clear that the elderly woman had been specific in her complaint.

Azrael grinned. In the grand scheme of her life, this was a minor issue. "I read a lot," she said, her earnest manner obviously feigned. Reminded of her costume, she scooped up her discarded tinsel halo and stuffed it in her bag.

"Ha. Lend me some of those books." Ella herded Azrael out of the room and past a particularly watchful Jack. They paused for Ella to text Lucifer about Azrael's whereabouts, despite the girl's assurance that he wouldn't care, then picked up a pizza and then went to Ella's place.

Azrael was still looking amused as they approached Ella's door. "There's no way we can eat all this," she protested, carefully balancing the massive pizza box.

"No, you should always get the biggest pizza," Ella explained as she opened the door for Azrael. "I mean, think about it: a sixteen-inch pizza is actually four times as big as an eight-incher - pi r-squared, right? - but it never costs four times as much. And then you have leftovers. I read this article about it and I was like, this makes total sense; I just hadn't thought of it. Mind... blown! Math for the win!"

Azrael had stopped listening to Ella's enthusiastic explanation as soon as the door had opened and she'd caught sight of Ella's Christmas tree. She stepped into the apartment and put the pizza down on the coffee table, approaching the tree. Taking up all possible space in its corner of the room, the tree was crammed with ornaments. While there were the typical globes, as well as homemade ornaments that were likely gifts from younger family members or relics of Ella's childhood, most of the ornaments were, in a word, geeky. Battlestar Galactica, the TARDIS and Serenity shared space with several ships from both Star Trek and Star Wars fandoms. There were also character-based ornaments - mostly female - and a set of wooden, laser-etched ornaments depicting female scientists. While Azrael didn't recognize most of what she saw - barring the scientists, who were labeled - she appreciated Ella's dedication. And at the top of the tree, an angel covered its eyes.

Azrael turned, with a grin. "Ella, this tree is perfect. It's so you." Looking up, she added, "Is that a Weeping Angel on the top?"

"Thank you, and yes," Ella replied, gathering plates and other necessities. "That's what we could watch," she enthused. "It's actually a really good stand-alone episode. You don't have to know anything about the show to watch it."

Azrael nodded agreeably, though she had paused in front of the wall beyond the tree, studying it with interest. Gesturing as she looked over her shoulder to Ella, she queried, "What is that, and has Mazikeen seen it? I mean, knives are her thing, but I think she'd like this as well."

Ella leaned back to see what had caught Azrael's attention, then grinned, nodding toward the curved, spiky blade. "Maze hasn't seen it as far as I know, but that's a Klingon bat'leth. It's a replica of the one Worf used." Seeing Azrael's blank expression as the girl joined her on the couch, Ella clarified, "From Star Trek? The Next Generation?" When Azrael still didn't look enlightened, Ella shook her head as she offered a plate. "You don't know Star Trek, you didn't know Doctor Who, the day we met. Girl, where did you grow up?"

"The Silver City," Azrael replied indistinctly. "Television - I'm guessing that's what this is about - wasn't really a thing. I mean, I've watched some since I got here, but there's a lot to catch up on." Seeing Ella's surprised expression, she smiled as she took her pizza, murmuring her thanks. "I had kind of a weird childhood."

Ella grinned. "Well, it's not like it's over," she offered. "You've still got years to be a kid."

Azrael nodded, her smile fading. "Apparently so," she agreed quietly. While it was possible that her father would let her return to the Silver City - maybe even to her job - getting to that point would likely require a good grovel to Michael, if her brother stayed true to form. Azrael was not yet prepared to suffer that.

"Hey, that's a good thing," Ella encouraged. She doled out napkins, then said, "So, how about Jack, huh? I didn't think he had the guts."

"Especially not after being buttonholed by my brothers," Azrael agreed, shaking her head.

"Aw, they weren't so bad," Ella consoled. "I mean, sure, they loomed a little, but they didn't threaten to tear his arms off. Or to tear anything else off. Jack didn't seem upset or anything."

Azrael stretched out a bit, shaking her head once more. "They wouldn't hurt him," she said, her voice full of certainty. "It's just really weird to see them on the same side. I mean, they've been butting heads for almost as long as I can remember." It was weird. This was the first time she'd seen Lucifer and Amenadiel in the same room since her arrival, and the relatively amicable manner between the two of them was a little unnerving.

"Huh. I wouldn't have guessed. Brothers." Ella grinned, then gave Azrael an amused, knowing look. "And Jack kissed you right in front of them."

Azrael sighed, a quiet, drawn-out sound." Not exactly where I'd been thinking today would go," she admitted, adding rather wryly, "And then Lucifer teased me about getting pregnant."

Expression going thoughtful, Ella asked, "You lived with your dad back in... Silver City?" When Azrael nodded, she continued, "And... I think Chloe said that you were homeschooled?"

Not really sure where Ella was going with her questions, and a little disconcerted that she had apparently been a topic of conversation, Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, starting in on her pizza. "I don't go to school." It was an agreement of sorts, and certainly easier than the truth.

Uncharacteristically hesitant, Ella said, "I'm not sure how much your father has told you about, well, growing up."

"Dad's not really the sharing type," Azrael replied, puzzled.

Ella nodded, chewing her pizza for a moment as if to give herself time to formulate what to say next. "Okay, well. You know, you're getting older, right?"

"Wait," Azrael interrupted as realization struck, desperately trying not to laugh. "Is this a sex talk? Ella, I swear, I've got that covered. I mean, I live with my brother - with Lucifer Morningstar. I know you can't get pregnant from kissing. Trust me when I say that I understand how it all works." She paused, then added ruefully, "Sometimes in surround sound."

Expression both relieved and embarrassed, Ella nodded. "Yeah, but it's not just sex. I mean, the way your brain chemistry changes, and -"

"Covered," Azrael repeated, with a smile. "Promise. Not by my father - what a truly horrifying thought - but I get it. Um, lecture, not lab, by the way. Did I mention that I read a lot? Also, well, I have eyes."

"Okay, good. Well, if you ever have any questions, I'm around." Ella regarded Azrael earnestly.

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Better you than Lucifer," she quipped. "Either he'd make that face that I was even asking, or he'd tell me far more than I wanted to know, and get out that book with the pictures. But, really, I'm good. Uh, weren't we going to watch the thing with the angels?"

Ella grinned. "Awkward segue accepted," she said, reaching for the remote.

* * *

Jack sat on the steps of St. Brennan's, waiting for his parents, which he knew could take forever. It was always, _oh, just one more cup of coffee_ , and while he could be in there eating more of those cookies, he wanted a little time for himself. He still wasn't sure what exactly had happened earlier, with Rae's brothers, and then... after. He hadn't meant to spill his guts like that, and he definitely hadn't meant to kiss her. Well, not that he hadn't thought about kissing her, but he'd imagined a little more privacy, and definitely less commentary. And what even _was_ moxie, anyway?

Rae would probably be at church the next day, and it would be weird. Before, she hadn't really seemed to notice him, but now? It would definitely be weird.

Jack heard the sound of heels clicking, and looked up from his contemplation of his shoes to see a woman approaching. He noticed her dark hair, but his eyes latched on to her leather pants and her... well, he supposed it was a shirt. There wasn't an awful lot of it, Jack observed. Not that he was complaining.

The woman stalked toward Jack, evoking in the boy a combination of fear and desire that would haunt - well, no, not haunt, precisely - his dreams for years to come. His lizard brain recognized a predator, and suggested that running away might not be a bad idea, but that wasn't the part of his brain that he was using. Truth be told, he wasn't really using his brain at all.

A sharp sound caught his attention: the woman snapped her fingers. "Up here, human."

With a guilty start, Jack pulled his eyes to the woman's face. "Y-yes?"

"I'm looking for someone," the woman told him, her voice hard.

Jack sat up straight, trying to look taller. "I'm someone," he offered.

For a moment, the woman looked like she was considering... something, and Jack's heart leaped in terrified anticipation, even as his brain scrambled for what she might be considering. When she shook her head, he exhaled softly in relief.

"Not you," she said with a smirk. She held out her phone and Jack saw a picture: a smaller, dark-haired girl, and...

"That's Rae." He peered up at the woman in some confusion, though if he were to be truly honest with himself, he wasn't really thinking, so confusion was a given. "Are you her sister?"

"What? No!" Jack instinctively leaned away from the woman's sudden anger and the knives in her voice. "Why would you think that? We don't look anything alike."

Jack stumbled over his words in his haste to get them out. "Sorry. Sorry! I met her brothers today, and they don't look like her, either. That's all. You don't look like her. You're way prettier."

The woman smiled for a moment, then accepted the praise as her due. With a nod toward the church, she asked, "Is she in there? Go get her for me."

Jack was on his feet before the reality of Rae's location registered. "She's not in the church." That small part of his brain that had been whispering about danger asserted itself, and he asked, "Who are you? Why do you want Rae?"

The woman stepped closer, and Jack stopped breathing for a moment. "Where is she?"

"With Ella," Jack stammered, the words escaping before he'd realized. "Ella Lopez. I think they were going to go back to her place."

"Huh." The woman nodded and turned on her high-heeled boots, walking toward the motorcycle that Jack was reasonably sure was parked illegally. The motorcycle roared to life, then tore down the road. Jack stared after it, then turned to go back into St. Brennan's, no longer really feeling like being alone. Doubt started to creep up his spine, and he moved a little faster, in search of Father Joe.

* * *

 _Blink_ was followed by _Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter_ , which Ella had proclaimed awesomely bad, and which Azrael had watched with fascination.

"It's an interesting way to kill someone," Azrael mused as the credits rolled, considering another piece of pizza but giving it up in favor of the popcorn that had appeared between the shows.

"What, an axe?" Ella queried, with a grin. "It was effective, at least."

Azrael blinked, clearly reeling in her thoughts. "Oh, no, I'm back on the Angels. Pulling people back in time. Death by... inaction, I guess." Though Azrael was glad that Weeping Angels were fictional; people being taken back in time would totally mess up her paperwork.

"Well, there are certainly worse ways to go," Ella observed.

Biting back a yawn, Azrael nodded. "Humans have been coming up with creative ways to kill each other since the beginning of time."

"Humans, huh?" Ella echoed, with a curious smile. Her phone pinged, and she glanced at it. "Oh, hey! Maze is here, I guess to give you a ride back to Lux."

"Huh. Well, her motorcycle is way more fun than a Lyft," Azrael commented, scrambling to her feet and getting her backpack, disinclined to keep Maze waiting. "Thanks, Ella," she added with a smile. "This was fun. It felt good to get out of my head, for a change."

Walking Azrael to the door, Ella nodded. "Any time, Rae," she replied, with a smile. She waved cheerfully to Maze, still on her motorcycle, who nodded in response.

Azrael climbed onto the motorcycle behind Maze and geared herself to grip the demon's waist. She was reasonably certain that she wouldn't lose a finger, but there was always that niggling sense of doubt.

"Come on," Maze said, her voice sharp with impatience, and Azrael quickly looped her arms around Mazikeen's waist, gripping tightly. She wouldn't put it past Maze to take off before she was situated.

The demon gunned the motorcycle, peeling off down the street at a rate that Azrael guessed was somewhat faster than the posted speed limit. That was normal driving for Maze, though, and what Azrael enjoyed most about their trips. Before she'd gotten her wings back, it was the closest she could come to flight.

When the motorcycle zoomed past the turn for Lux, Azrael assumed that traffic or road construction or - well, this was Maze - sheer caprice had caused the demon to take an alternate route. Several minutes passed and Maze made no move toward Lux.

"I think you missed the turn," Azrael called.

It's possible that Maze didn't hear Azrael over the wind, as she didn't react. The surroundings became more dilapidated and the motorcycle eventually skidded to a stop at the edge of a lot, the broken asphalt riddled with weeds. A warehouse, windows cracked where they weren't missing altogether, loomed at the far edge of the lot.

Azrael didn't even have enough time to register that she was flying through the air - and not in the fun way - before she had fallen hard. Somehow she turned the momentum of her landing into a roll and managed to end up mostly on her feet. She turned to Maze, expression mingling shock and just a little triumph, as if to say, Did you see what I just did, there?

Maze did not look impressed.

"So," Azrael said slowly, "we're taking the training on the road, now? Like Trixie did last week... a field trip?" All things considered, Azrael would have preferred the zoo.

Maze didn't answer. In a heartbeat, she was at Azrael's side and Azrael's wrist was caught in the demon's iron grip. When Azrael attempted one of the escapes, it became clear just how easy Maze had been going on her during their previous training sessions.

Maze's grip tightened. "Do you know how many little bones you have in your wrist?"

Actually, Azrael did, but she realized that this was one of those times that she should keep her knowledge to herself. Voice level, she said, "Mazikeen, you're hurting me."

The demon smirked. "Tiny Death, I haven't even started to hurt you."

"Have I offended you somehow?" Azrael asked, giving up on freeing herself. "I mean, more than usual?"

"You told. You stupid bitch, you told Chloe, and now everything is ruined." Just as the wickedly curved knife appeared in Maze's free hand, lightning split the cloudless sky and thunder echoed between the buildings, loud and bright enough to distract even the demon. Azrael took advantage of Maze's loosened grip to free herself; three running steps and then she launched herself into the air, coming to a landing atop the warehouse. Her muscles protested at the movement; she would definitely feel that tomorrow.

"What the hell?" Maze called accusingly, lifting her gaze skyward and then turning to Azrael. "Was that your dad? And don't think I can't get you up there." While she stalked across the lot and then stood looking up at Azrael, she made no move to scale the building.

"I have no idea," Azrael replied, with a hint of exasperation, trying not to be distracted by the feel of the breeze in her feathers. "It's not like he talks to me." She didn't point out that, should Maze also end up on the warehouse roof, Azrael could just take to the sky.

Maze huffed, all bravado. "I'm not scared of your dad."

"Well, I am," Azrael replied candidly, flicking one hand in a shooing gesture. "So if you're going to talk like that, please go back across the lot. Seriously, don't you watch horror movies? Saying you're not scared of him is like putting a target on your head." She only sounded half in jest. "If that's actually him throwing around lightning like that, I'd rather put some distance between us." Azrael paused, still warily watching the demon. "Though it could have been my brother Raziel. He's good with weather."

Maze made no move to leave. As a counteroffer to Azrael's suggestion, she flung a knife at the girl. Azrael shifted to the side, but still felt the small pain: one of her primaries. She would check the wing later. "Mazikeen, look," she protested, hands extended in a mollifying gesture, "Chloe and Trixie shouldn't have been able to see my wings. I was being careful; I still don't understand how it happened."

"Don't you get it?" Maze spat. "It doesn't matter how it happened. It matters that Chloe knows, and now I'll bet she doesn't want to be roommates anymore."

Azrael stared down at Maze, thunderstruck. "You actually care about Chloe. I... I didn't know that was possible. I mean, you're a demon."

"Shut up." Though Maze spoke through clenched teeth, her words were still clear.

Azrael took a deep breath. "Okay, sorry, that was uncalled for. Look, if I come down there, can we talk about this like reasonable beings? No violence?"

Jaw working, Maze considered the request. "Two minutes. No promises after that."

Inclining her head, Azrael glided to the ground, a tiny part of her still marveling that she had her wings. "Look," she said hesitantly. "That doesn't sound like Chloe. Did she tell you that, actually kick you out? Personally?"

Maze shifted her stance. "I heard her telling Linda." The words came stiffly.

"Oh, Linda was there?" Azrael exhaled a soft, relieved breath. "That's good. I mean, she's been through this." Maze cast an accusing glare at Azrael, and the girl edged back a step, wishing she'd asked for a head start at the end of the two minutes. "Did you try talking to Chloe? I mean, I'd give her time to process first, or... wait, ask Linda. She was there, and I'll bet she stuck up for you."

"Maybe I'll talk to Linda, but I still want to kick your ass," Maze's hostility had gone down a notch. While she'd never admit it, she was pretty sure that Azrael was right about Linda, and maybe even about Chloe, too.

Azrael inclined her head, her wings twitching. "That's most days, though, right?"

Maze exhaled a short sound that was almost a laugh. "Until recently, yes."

"I'll take that as a compliment." Azrael hesitated, then said, "You still going to try to kick my ass, before you go?" Maze bristled at the suggestion that it would only be an attempt, and Azrael hastily clarified, "No, you absolutely could, with me in my present form. It's just, I could call for backup -" She briefly assumed a prayer position then spread her hands wide, concluding regretfully, "- and I'd really hate to owe Michael and his sword a favor."

"Favors are Lucifer's thing."

Azrael shrugged. "Hey, I know that, and you know that, but Michael will take any opportunity to get me to owe him something."

Maze fingered one of her Hell-forged blades. Smacking Michael in his pompous face would feel really good, actually, but there was the chance - however slight - that the Archangel could be too much to handle. "One hit," she said finally.

Azrael's brows furrowed. "What?"

"Look - I'm going to go talk to Linda and see what happened, but you still shouldn't have told Chloe. It wasn't just your secret. So one hit." The demon folded her arms across her chest, then clarified, "No knives."

"I thought punishment was Lucifer's thing," Azrael ventured. At Maze's smirk, she shook her head a little ruefully. "Right. Never mind." She took a deep breath. "It wasn't intentional, what I did, but I do see your point. Okay, one hit, but I don't want to see it coming." She closed her eyes tightly and tucked her hands behind her back. Wouldn't do for Maze to see them shaking.

Maze saw. She turned her gaze on the small figure before her, her keen eyes catching the tremor. She had expected an argument or at least some pleading, not this blind acquiescence. It kind of took the fun out of it. Stupid angel.

The roar of the motorcycle startled Azrael into opening her eyes just in time to see Maze's departure. She exhaled a shuddering breath, stepping back to lean against the crumbling warehouse wall.

A moment later, the whoosh of an angelic arrival stirred up dust in the lot, and Azrael quickly tucked away her wings.

"It's just me." Raphael peered after the motorcycle, then turned to his sister. "That almost got interesting."

Brows lifted, Azrael queried, "So you're watching me, now? I don't need a minder, Raf."

With a gesture to their surroundings, Raphael replied, his voice tinged with sarcasm, "Yes, clearly you have everything under control. Why did you even get on the motorcycle in the first place?"

"Not that I have to explain myself to you, but have you ever been on a motorcycle?" Azrael couldn't keep back her smile. "The way she drives, it would have been worth getting hit."

Raphael snorted." Nice to see that you have your priorities in line, little sister." He squinted skywards; clouds had begun to gather. "Would you really have called on Michael?"

Azrael exhaled a long sigh as she considered her answer. "I honestly don't know. Worse, I'm not sure who I would have been rooting for, if I had." Sure, the demon scared her on a regular basis, particularly in her current form, but Michael had been actively annoying her for millenia.

Shaking her head, she queried hesitantly, "The, ah, thunder and lightning - was that Dad?"

Raphael shook his head. "Pretty sure that was Raziel. He's got kind of a vested interest in having you come out of all this in one piece, after all." Seeing Azrael's puzzled expression, he grimaced. "Wait, you didn't know? Raziel, ah, took over for you as Angel of Death."

If Azrael had not already have been leaning against the walk, she might have staggered. "Are you _serious_?" she managed, after a moment. At Raphael's nod, she protested, "But Raziel's an idiot."

"Now, that's not very charitable," Raphael chided, fighting back a smile.

"I'm not feeling very charitable," Azrael retorted. "He'd throw away the whole thing for a Snickers bar and a copy of Soap Opera Digest!" She folded her hands in prayer, but not before adding, "I'm surprised we don't have a zombie apocalypse, with Raziel doing my job."

Raphael rested a hand on Azrael's shoulder, brows lifting when she twitched away. "He won't come," he said lightly. "Dad's orders. He's giving Raziel a chance to show what he can do." As the zombie apocalypse comment registered, he added, "How much television have you been _watching_?"

"Not enough," Azrael muttered, her hands falling to her sides as she cast an irritated look skyward.

"Look, you know you'd find fault with anybody Dad picked to be Angel of Death, right?" When Azrael inclined her head in reluctant acknowledgement, he added, "Raziel isn't doing so bad a job of it. There's a learning curve, and you had an easier time if it when you started, with the lower population and all."

Azrael sighed and raked one hand through her hair. "I don't want to talk about it. Look, can you do me a favor?"

Raphael nodded agreeably. "Want a lift back to Lux?"

"Not to Lux, no."

* * *

Raphael landed easily, his feet crunching in the snow, then carefully set Azrael on her feet. "You're sure about this?"

Azrael nodded, though her gaze was on the small house. "I just... I don't know. I need a break from everything." She hugged herself, shivering a bit, then moved toward the door.

"You, ah, want me to tell Lucifer where you are?"

Azrael studied the door, then started to work at one of the bricks, wiggling it back and forth.

"Rae -"

"I'm thinking, okay?" The brick suddenly came free from the wall, and Azrael staggered back a step. She reached into the hole the brick's absence left, and pulled out a key before carefully returning the brick. "Not unless he asks," she said finally.

Raphael chuckled. "Right, because Lucifer and I are so chummy."

Azrael made a frustrated little sound." Okay, just don't immediately go tell him. I need some time to myself."

Raphael considered their surroundings: the narrow road behind them, the mountainous terrain, the absence of any other buildings nearby. "Well, you'll surely get that here."

Azrael unlocked the door. "That's the plan."


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's note: I've read so many "first talk between Lucifer and Chloe after she finds out" stories that I almost didn't write this chapter; it kind of feels like it's already been done. In any event, here it is. If I've included anything from the other stories that I'm read, I'm sorry. It's definitely unintentional.**

* * *

Lucifer sat in his car outside Chloe's apartment building, the fingers of his right hand drumming impatiently on the steering wheel.

Azrael was right, though he'd never come out and admit it to her. This was the last place he should be, just now. He'd been sitting here for at least an hour, trying to talk himself into some action, _any_ action. Chloe's nosy neighbor was no doubt watching, but he couldn't bring himself to turn the key and start the car.

Another car pulled up before the building, and then a figure emerged; his heart beat a little faster. It was a woman, small and blond and... not Chloe, but still someone he should talk to. He swung out of the car and approached her, calling as he did, "Doctor Linda!"

"Lucifer!" She turned, startled, then smiled knowingly. "Chloe's gone to bed. You should go home."

On any other day, the news that Chloe had gone to bed would elicit a ribald remark from Lucifer, but not today. He sighed, then studied Linda. As a connoisseur of inebriation, he could tell that she had been drinking, but was still reasonably self-aware.

"I should," Lucifer agreed, with a wistful smile. "And it looks as if you should as well. Want me to drop you on my way back to Lux?"

Linda gestured to the other car. "I have a Lyft here, though."

Lucifer smiled charmingly. "Why take a Lyft when you can have a handsome Devil escort you home?"

Linda was coherent enough not to be fooled. "And so you can pump me for information." Lucifer inhaled to respond, with a broad grin, but Linda interrupted, "Stop! Don't say it, or I won't tell you a thing."

Lucifer chuckled as he opened his passenger side door for Linda. "Well, when you give me an opening like that... and see how I'm not making a comment about you giving me an opening?"

The other driver rolled down her window. "Are you okay, ma'am?" she queried, looking concerned. "Do you know this guy?"

"Ah, she thinks I'm trouble," Lucifer observed, his brows lifting in amusement.

"She's not wrong," Linda quipped, before adding to the driver. "I'm fine, thanks, and I do know him."

"She'll not be needing your services," Lucifer said breezily, stepping over to offer the driver a roll of cash. "For your trouble."

To her credit, the driver waited until she got a nod from Linda before taking the cash and heading off on her way.

Lucifer waited for Linda to get in the car and closed her door; after casting one more look toward the apartment building, he got in the car and started it, finally departing. "How is she?" he asked after a moment, his good humor fading.

"Look, it's a lot for her to take in," Linda said gently.

Lucifer drove in silence for a moment. "I realize that," he said quietly. "I mean, not that I haven't been telling her who I am for as long as we've known each other, but yes. This is going to be a big adjustment for her. So I'll ask again... _how is she_?"

Linda took a little while to consider her answer. "I think she'll be all right," she said finally. "But you need to give her some time. Don't go back there after you take me home. Don't break into her place tomorrow and make her breakfast. Just... let her come to you, okay?"

"Rae said something along those lines as well," Lucifer replied without enthusiasm. "I just really want to make sure she's all right."

"She will be," Linda reassured. "She had a... gentler introduction to all this than I did."

Lucifer glanced at his therapist with a bit of amusement. "What, angel wings aren't scary like Mr. Crispy?"

Linda stared at him, torn between shock and incipient laughter. "Mr. ... Crispy?"

"Name courtesy of my sister," Lucifer replied with a wry smile.

"Ah." Linda bit back a smile of her own, but added. "I told Chloe about that, by the way. I thought it might be better if she knew. I hope that's okay."

Lucifer nodded, though his gaze had gone distant. "Probably for the best," he agreed. "What did she think?"

This time, Linda did smile, a genuinely fond expression. "She worried that it hurts you."

Lucifer looked over at Linda, shocked, though his attention turned back to the road. Supernatural reflexes were helpful, but he definitely didn't want a fender-bender to interrupt this conversation.

Linda rested a hand on his arm. "She cares about you, Lucifer."

"Even... knowing the truth?" He didn't look at her now, didn't really see the road before him, either.

"Yes," Linda replied, her voice rich with sincerity. "That's not to say that she doesn't want some answers - this is Chloe, after all. But I really think it's going to be okay."

Lucifer exhaled a relieved breath and briefly covered Linda's hand with his own. "Thank you."

* * *

Chloe paced back and forth in the elevator to Lucifer's penthouse, trying to burn off some nervous energy. Her morning had started far too early for as late as she and Linda had been up the previous night. Maze had barged into her room at sunup and had demanded to know if she still wanted to be roommates, and then had departed abruptly at Chloe's sleep-fogged affirmative. "Good morning to you, too," Chloe had mumbled, before pulling the pillow back over her head.

Sadly, more sleep had not been in the cards. Trixie had entered not five minutes after Maze's departure, bearing a stack of pictures she had drawn. Most had prominently featured Azrael and her wings, though there was a scene or two from the play, and even one of a chocolate cupcake. Still, Trixie had been content with drowsy praise and cuddles in bed, and Chloe had dared to hope for just a little more sleep when her daughter had left in search of her phone.

Her mother's phone call, full of Christmas plans, had been the final nail in the coffin as far as more sleep went. Chloe had dragged herself out of bed to make breakfast for Trixie, only to find that Maze had already taken care of Trixie's breakfast - Toasted Sugar Frosties, but better than nothing - and had even made coffee, though there were still dirty dishes in the sink. At that point, the presence of caffeine had made Chloe willing to consider the existence of some sort of Supreme Being, Lucifer's relative or not.

She'd put off coming to see him all day, not really sure why. Some of it had been Trixie; her daughter had been practically bouncing off the walls, in part due to her sugar-laden breakfast but mostly filled with impatience for Azrael's arrival. The angel - former angel? Was she still an angel if she wasn't the Angel of Death? - had maintained radio silence all day, much to Trixie's discontent. Finally, Chloe had packed Trixie off to Dan's for the night, after repeated urgings not to share her knowledge with her father. "It's Rae's secret," she had said, "And Maze's, and Lucifer's. If they want Daddy to know, they should be the ones to tell him." Trixie had agreed, albeit reluctantly, and Chloe had been touched by her daughter's faith in Dan's ability to handle all this. She wasn't sure she was handling it, after all.

Finally, in the elevator, she waited. Had the ascent always taken so long? Faintly, the volume increasing as she drew closer, she heard music. Lucifer, of course.

The tune was upbeat, the rhythm driving and intricate, though she couldn't catch the lyrics.

The elevator doors opened, but Chloe didn't step forward, instead listening in silence, enjoying the chance to watch him while he didn't know he was being observed. Lucifer sat at the piano in his shirtsleeves, his black jacket discarded and tossed over the back of the couch. A long row of empty shot glasses lined the top of the piano, with a half-full Scotch bottle on a nearby table; the ashtray held several stubbed-out cigarettes. Now she could catch at least some of the words; the song seemed to be about a man named Sam, whose ways mesmerized women, and his affair with a showgirl.

Lucifer's hands danced over the keys during the bridge, the song taking on a jazzy play on some tune she'd heard a thousand times but whose name she would never remember. And then he began to sing again.

" _He thought it was another fling, but that girl was much too strong._

 _She swore that she would see him dead if he ever did her wrong._ "

He had the voice of an angel.

" _As summer lost its leaves to fall, so this fine affair_

 _Was fading fast, it couldn't last; Sam vanished in the air_."

Well. Of course he did.

The elevator doors started to slide closed and Chloe stepped forward hastily to exit the elevator in time. The scuffle of sound caught Lucifer's attention and he lifted his hands from the piano, turning.

He looked rough. His five o'clock shadow was darker than usual, his hair tousled. His usually-immaculate shirt was rumpled, as if he'd slept in it, or possibly not slept. Chloe caught herself finding his look endearing, but firmly shoved away that thought, lest she get caught in another loop of _But he's the Devil!_ She couldn't handle more of that.

"Detective!" he breathed, his expression caught somewhere between hope and worry.

Chloe stepped a little closer, trying to remind herself of what Linda had said. _He's still the same guy I've known all this time._ "So... yeah. I thought we should talk."

Lucifer scrambled to his feet and then, with visible effort, slowed his movement. Chloe could almost see him reminding himself to be careful, to go slowly, not to scare her. "I suppose we should," he agreed lightly, fumbling with his shot glasses and looking a bit put out to find that they all were empty.

"Table," Chloe suggested, when Lucifer turned, looking.

Lucifer's gaze landed on the bottle. "Right." He summoned a smile. "Thanks." He poured himself a shot and then, after a judicious pause, a second. Casting a brows-lifted look of inquiry at Chloe, he hefted the bottle.

"Mm. No, thanks," she replied. Taking a deep breath, she added, "I'd rather stay clear-headed for this."

"Right," Lucifer repeated, his expression growing concerned. He tossed back one of the drinks and then took the other to the couch, gesturing for Chloe to join him and trying not to read anything into it when she chose the chair instead of the spot next to him on the couch. "So. Heard that my sister gave you a little post-theater show last night. Well, if you could call that travesty 'theater.'"

Chloe didn't speak for a moment, instead studying Lucifer thoughtfully, her gaze skittering away when he tried to make eye contact. "She did," she finally said.

"Well," Lucifer said slowly, "You're speaking to me - you're speaking at all, for that matter - so you're handling it better than Doctor Linda. Points to you, Detective."

Chloe shifted uncomfortably in her seat." Well, I did have Linda to talk to about it," she demurred. "She was really helpful. Whatever you're paying her, it's not enough."

"Oh, I quite agree." Distraction. Humor. Maybe that would help. Lucifer leered cheerfully, adding, "Especially since she stopped accepting sex as payment. Supernatural stamina, Detective."

"Gross," Chloe muttered, though not without a smile. She met Lucifer's gaze briefly and her smile faded, brows furrowing.

Lucifer sighed very quietly. "Are you afraid of me, Detective?" He didn't, couldn't look at her.

Chloe hesitated over her answer. "Of you? Of the guy who won't stop making sex jokes even though that's _never_ going to happen? The guy whose complete inability to do paperwork drives me up a wall? Whose dedication to punishing bad guys amazes me every day? The guy who _saved my life_ and more importantly my daughter's life, who apparently really did _die_ for me?" She wiped impatiently at her eyes shaking her head. "No, Lucifer. I'm not afraid of you. It's just the whole supernatural thing that's giving me some trouble. I mean, I don't believe in that stuff, but... it's real." She shook her head again, still clearly having difficulty.

It was a moment before Lucifer could respond. Voice a little husky, he replied, "I kind of _am_ the whole supernatural thing."

"I know," Chloe replied. "And it's going to take me a while to get used to that." She got to her feet and moved to sit next to Lucifer, looking earnestly up at him. "But you're my friend, my partner, no matter what."

Lucifer nodded, a certain subtle tension leaving his body. "I'm... most glad to hear that." He cleared his throat, adding, "Is there anything I can do to help? Doctor Linda said you might have questions."

Chloe's head dropped, her hair falling to hide her face, and she laughed, a low, rippling sound. "Oh, so many questions."

"Well," Lucifer said brightly. "I'm happy to answer them."

Chloe smiled, mentally ordering her list. Wanting to start with an easy one, she asked, "So do I have to start going to church?"

"No, " Lucifer said promptly. "Church is boring and has motivated people to do truly horrifying things in my father's name. Not that it's all bad. I mean, we have Miss Lopez and, well, other people." Father Frank, though he'd never say it. "It's just not required."

"Good," Chloe replied with quiet fervor. "The play was all right, but I really don't want to spend my Sundays in church."

With a derisive laugh, Lucifer replied, "The play was both inaccurate and derivative - impressive, that - the writing was poor, the acting sub-par -"

"Lucifer they're children, " Chloe protested with a laugh. "Well, except for Rae." Her voice trailed up a bit at the end, and then she asked "How old _is_ Rae? How old are you, for that matter?"

Lucifer spread his hands in a gesture of uncertainty. "I'm not really sure. Older than humanity. Rae's somewhat younger; she really is my little sister. We didn't really pay attention to the passage of time, back in the day."

Nodding thoughtfully, Chloe asked, "So why does Rae - older than humanity - want to hang out with my eight year-old?"

"Well, for a child your offspring is reasonably inoffensive," Lucifer began. At Chloe's aggrieved look, he subsided. "Right," he said slowly, "Rae's often said that she had a weird childhood, and she did. We all did, of course, but Rae..." He sighed, with a regretful shake of his head, and tossed back his second shot, setting down the empty glass. "Our parents' relationship was already on the rocks when she she came along. Maybe they thought another child would help; maybe they didn't even think about it. But she had a tougher time of it than I did, or Amenadiel, any of the older ones. Given the opportunity for another childhood, I can't exactly blame her for taking it. She honestly enjoys Beatrice's company, though, Detective. No worries on that count."

Chloe nodded thoughtfully, though the idea that her daughter was such good friends with an impossibility ancient entity still gave her some pause. "Is Rae around?" she thought to ask. "Trixie had thought she was going to come over today, and she wasn't answering anything on her phone."

Lucifer hummed quietly and got to his feet to check Azrael's room. "I haven't seen her today. She went off with Miss Lopez after all the excitement yesterday," he said as he returned, "but it doesn't appear that she came back afterwards. I'll let her know you were asking after her."

Chloe bit back her initial response - that Lucifer should attempt to track down his sister - and instead nodded. "Thanks. I'll tell Trix." With a sudden chuckle, she said, "That explains why you didn't put her in school."

His expression one that could only be described as devilish, Lucifer said, "I did think about it, but middle school, from all I hear, is far too close to actual Hell for me to want my sister there. And, well, she never would have gone for it."

"And think of all the times you would have been called in to talk to the teachers," Chloe murmured, looking amused.

Lucifer nodded. "There was that self-preservation angle, yes."

Chloe shot him a sidelong glance, her expression sobering a bit. "While we're talking about your family, Linda said that your mom is Charlotte Richards?"

"Technically, Mum is _inside_ Charlotte Richards - inhabiting her." Lucifer grinned suddenly. "I expect you'll believe me now when I say that I haven't had sex with her?"

"Ah, yes," Chloe agreed, suppressing a shudder. Looking thoughtful, she asked, "How does that even work? Is Charlotte in there, too?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer queried, "What, like The Exorcist? No. Though if Mum starts getting overly flexible about the neck, I'll take note. No, Charlotte died, and then Mum -" He made a hopping gesture with one hand. "- took over."

"But Rae looks just like her," Chloe protested. "How did that happen? Not that I'd mind looking like Charlotte Richards," she added, sotto voce.

"You're lovely just as you are," Lucifer said seriously, expression going a little embarrassed at Chloe's sudden smile. "Ah, as for Rae looking like Mum, she - Mum - thinks that Dad was trying to make a point, though what point that was, I have no idea." Seeing Chloe's puzzled expression, he added wryly, "Dear old Dad altered Rae's appearance as well as her apparent age before he sent her here."

"So she doesn't even look like herself?" Chloe asked, her brows furrowing in sympathy. "The poor kid." Seeing Lucifer's amused expression, she added sheepishly, "... who is older than humanity, and so not actually a kid, got it. That's going to be tough to remember. Still kind of a dick move on your dad's part, though. He's still her dad, no matter how old she is."

Laughing in delight, Lucifer queried, "Even knowing who he is, you're still criticizing him? That's brilliant, Detective."

"Thank you," Chloe replied, with a smile. "Hey," she added gently. "He shouldn't be a dick to you, either."

Lucifer was quiet for a moment, and then he smiled. "Yes, well, I quite agree with you, but he is who he is. Dickishness is part and parcel."

"Huh, I don't remember reading that in the Bible," Chloe teased.

"Oh, check the Apocrypha," Lucifer replied, amused. "I'm sure it's in there somewhere."

"Yeah, I'll just take your word for it," Chloe said, chuckling. As it occurred to her, she asked, "So does your dad just sit up there and watch everybody, like some creepy Santa Claus?"

Lucifer looked amused. "What, 'he knows if you've been bad or good?' Well, he _can_ know what happens, but I'm not sure how much attention he pays on an individual level. There are so many of you humans, after all." Chloe looked a little relieved, until Lucifer added, "He's probably paying attention to _you_ , though, all things considered."

"Great," Chloe muttered. "Thanks for that. Now I'll never be able to shower without thinking of that."

"Well, now, that's not fair." Lucifer's protest was mostly in jest. "If my father gets to watch, then-"

"No, Lucifer."

Lucifer and Chloe talked for hours, both of them losing track of time in the process. She asked about his siblings ("Haven't seen most of them in ages. Michael - yes, _that_ Michael - keeps turning up like a bad penny, unfortunately. Raphael's not so bad, though, and Gabriel's quite amusing."), the extent of his supernatural abilities (which somehow did not devolve into a sex joke), and why he'd left Hell ("We finally got the Internet and I could see what I was missing up here.") She was pretty sure he was joking on that last one, but, really, one could never tell with Lucifer.

Finally, Chloe took a deep breath. Internally bracing herself, she said, "If you're willing to show me, I'm ready to see."

Lucifer didn't pretend not to know what she was talking about. "Are you certain, Detective?" When she nodded, he glanced toward the elevator. "Right. Make sure you have a clear path to the exit, then."

"Hey," Chloe replied, and Lucifer turned back to face her. "Do you trust me?" Lucifer's twisted little smile upon hearing the words he'd said so often to her almost broke her heart, but he nodded, unable to speak. Chloe rested a hand on his. "I'm not going anywhere, yeah?"

Lucifer nodded once more, and changed, his skin and hair replaced with the reddened, twisted skin of his other form, his eyes flaring red.

Chloe's hand quivered briefly on his, but, though her eyes widened, she made no further move. She took a deep breath, then asked, a catch in her voice, "You're really okay?"

" _You're_ asking _me_ that?" Lucifer queried in wonderment, and Chloe, hearing that his voice was the same, relaxed a little more. "Yes, Detective, I'm fine. Are _you_ quite well?"

"Yeah," Chloe replied, nodding, her eyes searching his face. An idea occurred to her and she asked, "So... Jimmy Barnes?"

Lucifer nodded grimly. "This is what he saw. Not nearly punishment enough, if you ask me."

Chloe shook her head, brows lowering. Her voice fierce, she said, "Lucifer, looking at you isn't a punishment. Don't ever think that about yourself."

Faced with such a perfect straight line, the Devil said... nothing. He looked down at Chloe's hand, still resting lightly on his, and took a deep breath. He let himself revert to the form more familiar to Chloe, the unblemished skin coming as a relief. "Why Detective," he said, his tone subdued. "I didn't know you cared."

"Well, then, you're an idiot," Chloe replied, her voice still thick with emotion.

That startled a smile out of Lucifer. "I don't suppose we could parlay that feeling into the other room?" he suggested, with a gesture toward his bedroom. Something about his manner implied that the come-on was obligatory, Lucifer defusing the emotional situation by being Lucifer, rather than an actual suggestion.

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "No, Lucifer."

"Well, the offer's always on the table - hmm, on the table, there's a thought."

Chloe, though, wasn't going to let the conversation devolve into humor and teasing attempts at seduction. "So I guess I owe you an apology."

Lucifer drew himself up, expression startled. "You... what?"

"Yeah," Chloe replied. "I mean, you must have told me who you are... what, twenty times?"

"At least," Lucifer agreed faintly.

Chloe smiled, her gaze intent on Lucifer's. "So I'm sorry I didn't believe you." She leaned in and hugged him, cautiously at first and then with a sudden intensity.

It took Lucifer a moment to respond, his arms hovering behind Chloe's back for a moment before he gently wrapped them around her. "It's quite all right, Detective," he replied softly. "In your position, I wouldn't have believed me, either."

Chloe didn't say anything for a few moments, but then she finally eased back, with another smile for her friend and partner. "Hey, I need to get going," she said, with a hint of apology. "Mere mortals like me need sleep, especially if I'm going to be at all awake at work tomorrow." She got to her feet.

Lucifer stood as well, the better to walk her to the elevator. "Of course," he replied, with a smile.

As they passed the piano, Chloe asked, "Hey, whatever happened to Sam?"

Lucifer's brows lifted. "Sam?" he asked carefully.

Gesturing to the piano, Chloe clarified, "From the song? Did he end up back with the girl?"

Expression clearing, Lucifer replied, "Oh, no, definitely not. She had him killed."

"Huh. Not where I thought that was going." Chloe shrugged briefly, then asked, "Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

Lucifer smiled. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

 **Author's note: The song Lucifer sings is Sam's Last Boogie by Trout Fishing in America. Picking the song was tough!**

 **I will admit that I almost had Rae go to school just for the fun of the trouble she would cause, but figured she'd never stand for it. ;)**


	32. Chapter 32

**Author's note: I realized when I finished this that it contains no actual _Lucifer_ characters. My apologies for that, and I hope this is interesting enough to make up for that. We'll get back to the gang next chapter, starting out with what I hope will be an entertaining pair. **

**Promotional consideration provided by the Quaker Oats Company and the Kia Motor Corporation. ;)**

 **Thanks to Christopher Moore's _Lamb_ for the bacon.**

* * *

Azrael rolled over in bed, trying not to groan aloud from the pain. She'd been pushing herself hard for the past few days, spending most of her waking hours flying in the valley behind her house. She was starting to build up muscles that this body hadn't had to use, that hadn't even been there before she had been granted her wings. She had learned the thermals and the updrafts of the valley, and the weather had cooperated enough that she'd managed to regain some of her old techniques, though others were impossible without supernatural speed and strength. The fact that all this effort left her too exhausted to do more than fall into bed at the end of the day, well, that was just a bonus. That kept her from thinking too much, something that suited her quite well.

Bacon. She smelled bacon frying, and while the house should be empty aside from herself, she was willing to face a home invasion if it involved not having to make breakfast. She heaved herself out of bed, pulled on a robe and slippers, and padded down the stairs. The robe pooled on her floor behind her; like all the clothing she'd left in the house, it was too big for her.

She paused at the foot of the stairs, considering the man in her kitchen.

Not overly tall, with broad shoulders and dark, curling hair, he had his back to her, working at the stove. He was singing. "Peace on Earth, and mercy mild. God and sinners reconciled."

"Am I supposed to be the sinner in this story?" Despite her words, she smiled. It had been too long since she'd seen him.

He turned, also smiling, his dark eyes warm. "You know you're not."

Azrael stepped to his side, leaning in for a one-armed hug. He returned the gesture, and her pain melted away. She exhaled a soft, relieved breath. "Thanks," she said, before adding teasingly, "Almost like you're the son of God or something."

"Right," he agreed, with a laugh. "Because there's only one of _those._ " He glanced down at her feet, noting the Killer Rabbit slippers. "Nice," he approved, amused.

Azrael grinned back at him, then considered the bacon that her brother had almost finished cooking. "Thought this was against the rules," she observed. "Mm, but defiance tastes so good."

"I'm pretty sure that was a misunderstanding. Dad can't have thought bacon was that big a deal." He paused. "Except turkey bacon. Turkey bacon is a sin against Dad."

"Why isn't actual, non-turkey bacon a sin, because it tastes good?" Azrael shrugged, though there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Probably for the best, though. Everything really would have gotten out of hand if you guys had had _bacon_."

Her brother waved a set of tongs at her in mock threat. "Make yourself useful and get the eggs." Despite his words, his tone was fond.

She didn't move. "Josh, what are you doing here?"

He smiled at the nickname. She was the only one of his siblings who called him that; it was the name he'd been using that time she'd found him surfing Holualoa Bay, and she'd taken to it. _Isn't that cheating?_ she'd asked. _After all, you can walk on water._

"Making breakfast," he replied simply. "You haven't been eating enough, especially not for all the flying you've been doing."

Azrael folded her arms across her chest, and Josh managed not to smile. The gesture would have been effective in her usual form, particularly with that look in her eyes, but was just cute in her current incarnation. He resisted the urge to pat her head, knowing how well _that_ would go over. "Have you been watching me?" she asked. When he shrugged an affirmative, she sighed. "I don't even have any eggs." She paused. "Though I don't recall having bacon, either."

Josh waved his fingers in a pseudo-mystical gesture. "You do now."

Shaking her head, Azrael moved to the fridge to get the eggs and noted that somewhat more food was there than had been there when she'd gone to sleep, though the fridge was not overly full. Curious, she opened a cabinet, which was also newly stocked. She pulled out a box of Life cereal and showed it to her brother. "Seriously? Life?"

Josh looked over, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I couldn't resist the irony. I mean, what other cereal are you going to eat?"

Returning the cereal, Azrael shook her head. "Ha, ha, the Angel of Death eats Life... except -" She hesitated, then said it. "That's not me, Josh. I'm not the Angel of Death. Not anymore. Maybe not ever. You have to know that." It hurt to say it.

"Just for now," Josh reassured. When Azrael turned her skeptical gaze on him, he added, "Really."

Azrael managed a smile. With a nod toward the refrigerator, she added, "You shouldn't have done all that. Not for me."

"Why not for you?" Josh asked. "And anyway, we're not talking loaves and fishes, here, sis. Even in this back of beyond, they do have such things as grocery stores."

Choosing to ignore the question, Azrael asked, "Scrambled?" At her brother's nod, she started cracking eggs with a little more focus than such a task required, head bowed over her work. Handing over the bowl with the egg mixture - she had added the appropriate seasonings, of course - she smiled. "Thanks."

Azrael put the last of the food on the table and seated herself. Her brother extended his hands and, after a moment, she took them and closed her eyes. "Hi, Dad," Josh began conversationally. "We'd like to thank you for this meal and the hands that put it here, particularly Betty on register two at the Shop and Sack. That two-for-one coupon came in handy." Azrael cracked one eye to peer at her brother, but he continued serenely, "Help Rae to accept that you have a plan and that she is a part of it, even though I know she's probably rolling her eyes right now." She was, as much as one could roll one's eyes while they were closed. "Help her to know that you're not just fucking with her -"

Here, Azrael opened her eyes and interrupted, "Josh, I don't think you can say 'fucking' in a prayer."

He ignored her, and she closed her eyes again as he continued. "Help her accept that your ways are ineffable, but will reveal themselves in time - or maybe not. Who are we kidding? This _is_ you we're talking about, after all. But you do have your reasons, whether or not you choose to reveal them to us, your children. In your name we pray. Amen."

"Amen," Azrael echoed, with a quiet sigh. Josh squeezed her hands gently and let go; she started dishing up the food, then said slowly, "I know I'm part of his plan. We all are. I'm just not sure if that's a good thing, you know? I mean, look what he did to you, and he likes you."

"He likes you, too, Rae," Josh replied. Seeing his sister's look of skepticism, he added, with emphasis, "He does."

Azrael shook her head, her expression wry. She didn't want to argue with her brother, so she said only, "He has a funny way of showing it."

Josh nodded, his expression sympathetic. "You're right," he agreed, offering the basket of biscuits.

Azrael took the basket, with a murmur of thanks, but then cast a look of amused suspicion at her brother. " _Hoc est corpus meum_?"

Josh sighed. "It's just a biscuit, Rae. Not everything is symbolic. Sometimes you really read too much into things."

Azrael shrugged amiably. "In this family, you never know." She took a biscuit and carefully broke it apart before slathering on the butter. "I don't take communion at Mass," she added conversationally. "It feels a little weird. I told them I wasn't baptized."

"It wasn't weird that first time," Josh offered. "I just sort of went with it. And, hey, I'm sure John would have been happy to baptize you, back in the day."

Azrael shook her head, with a quick smile. "That would have gone well, I'm sure." Realization struck, and she said, "Wish I'd known you were coming. I would have baked a cake."

"Come on," Josh replied sheepishly. "You know it's not really my birthday."

Azrael eyed Josh with amusement. "Of course. But with all the humans who think it's today, that's a perfect excuse for cake. I mean, not that we need an excuse for cake. Oh - I've been taking kind of a poll. If I _did_ make you a cake, would you want it to be angel food or devil's food?"

"Why do I think there's an obvious answer to this question?" Josh asked, laughing.

Shaking her head, Azrael replied teasingly, "It's just cake, Josh. Not everything is symbolic."

Josh made a face at his sister, then pondered his answer. "Pie," he said finally.

"That was not one of the options!" Azrael objected, though she looked amused.

Josh shrugged, scooping up the last of his eggs. "It's _my_ not-birthday. I should get to choose the hypothetical celebratory baked goods, and I choose pie."

Azrael pondered the response and then nodded. "Okay, pie," she conceded. "As long as it's not apple."

"Well, of course not apple."

* * *

The pie remained hypothetical, despite Azrael's suggestion that they go to the Shop and Sack to get the rest of the needed supplies. Josh insisted that he didn't actually need not-birthday celebratory baked goods, especially not with ice cream in the freezer; Azrael was amused, but not surprised, that he'd bought Death By Chocolate ice cream.

The two siblings spent the day together, sometimes talking - Josh let Azrael shy away from the difficult topics, though his occasional knowing look made it clear that he was aware of what she was doing - and sometimes just sitting in peaceful silence.

When the sky had gone fully dark, Josh suggested, "Want to go for a drive?"

Azrael nodded agreeably at the suggestion and moved to her closet. "Do you have a coat?" she asked, not without a sigh for the size of the coat she pulled out for herself. She had not planned for this tiny human body when she'd stocked this place. "It gets pretty cold out here at night."

"I'll be okay," Josh replied with a smile. Still the big sister, despite her size. "Watch the weather here, though. Betty at the Shop and Sack said that storms can blow up pretty quickly."

Azrael grabbed a blanket from the back of her couch. "Just in case you get cold."

The two headed out the door. Azrael briefly considered locking the door behind her, but then gave it up as unnecessary. She crossed behind the white crossover but paused at the bumper. "You're driving a Soul?" she asked, brows lifting. "Seriously?"

Josh grinned. "I didn't ask for it. Roy at the rental place picked it for me. Easier to cart the groceries."

"Sure," Azrael replied, amused.

"You want to drive?" Josh queried, adding teasingly, "You're older, after all."

Azrael shook her head as she got in the passenger side and buckled her seat belt. "Nah, go ahead." She shot a sidelong look at him, adding with a sly grin, "Take the wheel."

"Were _you_ the one who spread that song around the Silver City?" Josh demanded.

"Song?" Azrael echoed, unable to keep back her smile.

Josh started up the car, carefully easing onto the narrow road and heading farther up the mountain. Clearly not fooled by Azrael, he observed, "You know, Gabriel sang it to me every time he saw me for six months."

"Six months, huh?" Azrael replied. "Wow, his stamina's really flagging. Time was, he would have kept it up for a decade." She dissolved into laughter, leaning against the passenger-side door.

Josh shook his head, then offered, with a sly grin of his own, "You know, we all loved the play."

Azrael stopped laughing. "What?"

"Yeah. You guys were so _cute_." His tone held nothing but amused sincerity. "And Gabriel thought it was hysterical that the little sheep's name was Michael. He's been baa-ing at brother Michael ever since."

"Okay," Azrael said slowly, some of the horror leaving her expression. "On one hand, Gabe is never, ever going to let me forget this -"

"No, he's not," Josh agreed, laughing.

"- but the thought of him baa-ing at Michael... that's almost worth the humiliation. How pissed off is Michael?"

" _So_ pissed off," Josh replied, trying unsuccessfully not to look amused. "There aren't words for how pissed off he is." He drove in silence for a moment, then added, very quietly, "It's _awesome_." Josh pulled the car off the road, into a clearing, and turned off the car. "Oh, and that baby who played me? Really cute."

"She is," Azrael agreed, as she got out of the car. "She's the sheep's baby sister."

"Ha, that's appropriate," Josh said, getting out of the car and, after a moment, pulling out the blanket. "That was really progressive of your church, though, taking gender out of the picture. One of the Kings was a girl, too, right?" As Azrael followed, puzzled, he spread the blanket on the ground and stretched out in it, the mountain behind his head.

"I don't think it was intentional," Azrael observed, easing herself to to the ground next to her brother. "They were just short on kids."

Josh pillowed his head on his folded arms. "I saw this production of _Jesus Christ Superstar_ in Chicago last year where they didn't pay any attention to gender. I was a girl, and so was Judas. It was really good." Hearing Azrael's sigh, he asked, "What?"

"That show was too easy on Judas, that's all," Azrael said quietly, stretching out and squinting at the sky.

Josh let out a quiet murmur of understanding. "What he did, Rae-"

"No," Azrael interrupted sharply. "Josh, please don't defend him. I would have killed him myself, if I could have."

"Well, if anyone has the right to defend him..." Josh began, but Azrael let out a quiet huff, her stubbornness on the subject nearly palpable, and so he subsided, saying only, "I appreciate the thought."

"Thank you," Azrael replied stiffly. The two sat in silence for a few moments, and then Azrael offered, an obvious change from one awkward topic to another, "So when you said you _all_ loved the play..."

"I don't know if Dad saw it," Josh replied. "He wasn't with the rest of us."

Azrael, with a small shiver, pulled the rest of the blanket over the two of them. "What am I looking at, anyway?"

"Just give your eyes time to adjust," Josh replied quietly. "Not quite sure when it's happening."

Azrael looked up at the sky once more. This far from any major population, the darkness was absolute. The Pleiades in particular caught her attention for a moment, but her thoughts distracted her from the lovely sky. "Did Dad send you?" she asked, dropping into the language of angels. It was easier to ask these questions in the dark, where she couldn't see her brother's pity, and easier to speak them in her mother-tongue.

Josh replied in the same language, his tone fond. "Yes. But I would have come even if he hadn't."

Azrael smiled, though Josh couldn't see her face. "Thanks. Does... does he want me to come home?"

Josh didn't answer for a long moment. "No," he said. "Not yet, at least."

"Oh. I'd thought, since Michael was all set to bring me home..."

Azrael had tried to keep the disappointment from her voice, but of course Josh heard. He fumbled for her hand, giving it a squeeze. "He's not upset with you, Rae," he said gently. "You're just not done here yet."

"No, it's okay," Azrael replied, exhaling a soft sigh. "I mean, it's not like it's bad here. It's just the not knowing of it all. What does he want me to do?"

"You know I can't tell you that," Josh replied regretfully.

Sounding a little exasperated, Azrael replied, "Won't I be able to accomplish more if I know what he wants?"

Josh shifted on the blanket. "You'll do what he wants either way, sis."

Azrael closed her eyes. It was only a little darker that way, but she felt better. "I know, Josh. I just meant-" She cut off her words with a sigh, sounding defeated as she asked, "Why did he send you?"

"He wants you to go back to LA." Azrael sat up, a protest on her lips, and Josh tugged gently on her arm, "You're going to miss it," he urged. "Look, I can take you back tonight, but Dad said you can wait if you'd rather."

Azrael eased back to the blanket, eyes flicking skyward. Voice carefully even, she replied, "I'm not quite ready, if it's really okay that I wait." When Josh murmured an assent, she added, "I need to be by myself. Just for a little while. I mean, I've been dealing with humans since the beginning, but not... like this. Sometimes I just..." She sighed once more, frustrated with her inability to explain just why she was struggling.

"Hey, you don't have to explain yourself to me," Josh replied gently. "Oh - did you see it?" A meteor streaked across the sky, followed after a moment by a second. "Not as good as the Perseids, but it's something."

"I saw," Azrael replied, her eyes on the sky. "Thanks Josh."

"Hey," her brother said softly. "It'll all work out in the end, Rae. It'll be okay. Try to remember that."

"I'll try." Pulling her share of the blanket a little closer, Azrael settled in to watch in silence. She had her doubts that it would all be okay - for her, at least - but right now was okay. She'd focus on right now.

* * *

 **Author's note: Yes, there was no meteor shower on Christmas. Shh. ;) The Latin is "This is my body."**


	33. Chapter 33

**Author's note: This was intended as part of the next chapter, but it felt like it was all getting to be too long, so I broke it up. I also wanted to see what tomorrow's episode brings before posting the next section.**

 **There are definitely some posting/notification issues going on, so if you missed the one with Josh, please go back and take a look.**

* * *

Trixie was worried.

It had been almost a week since she'd heard from Rae. That they'd lost their SnapChat streak was bad enough, but she hadn't heard _anything_ from her friend. No texts, no posts to her Instagram, no FaceChat. Not even a phone call. Nothing.

Her mother had said that Lucifer didn't know where Rae was, and Trixie believed her; she knew Lucifer never lied, so he definitely didn't know. Her mother had smiled when she'd said it, but when she thought Trixie wasn't looking, she'd looked worried.

When Trixie had asked Maze if she knew where Rae was, the demon - demon, _so cool_ \- had shrugged and said she didn't know. "Sometimes she takes off," Maze had added carelessly. "She's fine."

But Trixie wasn't sure.

She'd asked her dad to keep an ear out at the precinct, and he'd actually let Trixie see him look concerned, in a way the other adults hadn't. It had made her want to tell him that Rae was an angel and was _probably_ okay, but she knew that her mom was right, that it wasn't her secret. And then her dad hadn't found out anything, so Trixie had decided to take matters into her own hands. After school, once she'd heard Maze's shower start, she'd put her plan into action and gone to find the one person who _should_ know where Rae was.

Trixie peered through the front window of Richards and Wheeler. Finally, the man at the front desk stepped away, and she hurried through the door. It took a little searching, but eventually she found the right office.

Trixie was a little afraid of Rae's mom, but _her_ mom said that being brave was being scared of something but doing it anyway. Her mom had been talking about flu shots, but it was basically the same thing.

Vowing to be brave for her friend, Trixie stepped quietly into the office. She watched Rae's mom for a moment; the woman was reading something on her laptop.

Finally, Trixie could stand it no longer and said, "Excuse me? Rae's mom?"

Charlotte looked up from the computer, brows furrowed in irritation. "What are you doing here?" Looking a little closer, she added, "You're Azrael's little bug, aren't you?"

Taking the woman's words as invitation, Trixie came closer. "I'm Beatrice, but everybody calls me Trixie. If I was going to be a bug, I'd be an orchid mantis. We learned about them in school. They're pink and they look like flowers, and the girls are way bigger than the boys." She grinned engagingly. "Sometimes the girls _eat_ the boys."

"Bloodthirsty little thing, aren't you?" Rae's mom observed, though not without a hint of approval.

"I just think it's cool that you can look right at it, and you wouldn't know it was there," Trixie observed. "You'd just think it was a pretty flower." Lolling against the desk, she asked, "Where's Rae?"

"That was my idea," Charlotte said, preening a little. At the mention of her daughter, she peered at Trixie in some confusion. "I don't know. Have you tried asking Lucifer?"

"Lucifer doesn't know," Trixie replied seriously. "But _you_ should. You're her mom, and moms are supposed to know where their kids are."

Nettled, the tall woman asked, "Does your mother know where _you_ are?" When Trixie didn't answer, instead studying her pink Chuck Taylors, Charlotte said briskly, "I didn't think so." Perhaps it was Mom Solidarity, or maybe it was the desire to rid herself of her small intruder, but she picked up her phone, saying, "Let's just call down to the precinct and let her know..."

Trixie was pretty sure that Big Trouble was likely in the cards for her when her mother found out what she'd done, and she wanted to put it off for as long as possible. Thinking fast, she asked, "Are you an angel, too?" Since she'd found out that angels were real, Trixie had been looking for more. She was pretty sure Rae's mom wasn't one - angels were supposed to be nice, right? - but she had suspicions about one of the kindergarten teachers at her school.

Rae's mom slowly put down the phone. When she spoke, her voice was very quiet, and it had a dangerous note that made Trixie nervous. "What are you talking about, little bug?"

Possibly, Trixie thought, she should have opted for her mother's version of Big Trouble, rather than what she currently faced. She swallowed. "Mommy said not to tell, that it's not our secret, but you're Rae's mom! You know, right?"

"And Mommy knows, too," Charlotte murmured. Turning her gaze back to Trixie, she said, "Of course I know. I'm her mother. But I'm curious how _you_ know. Azrael wasn't supposed to tell anyone."

"Is Rae in trouble?" Trixie asked, eyes wide.

"Not with me," Charlotte replied, with a smile that had a little too many teeth to be all that reassuring. "Maybe with her father, though. He does tend to overreact. But how do you know about Azrael?" Trixie hesitated and Charlotte insisted, her voice sharp, "Answer me."

Trixie did not want to tell, but, looking at Charlotte, she couldn't really think of an alternative. "I saw her wings," she admitted. Peeking cautiously at Charlotte, she added, "They're really pretty. Rae said she can fly, and I wanted to see, but it's been almost a week. She was supposed to come over on Sunday after church and she didn't text or anything."

Charlotte made a wry face at the mention of church, but then cast a look of consideration at this tiny source of information. "Her wings," she repeated softly, a much more genuine smile warming her face. "Oh, my sweet girl." Looking back to Trixie, her gaze sharpened. "A week? And Lucifer doesn't know where she's gone?"

Trixie shook her head dolefully. "That's what my mommy said."

"Well, let's find out for sure." Charlotte picked up her phone once more and dialed a number. It took a little time for a response, and her brows lowered. Finally, she spoke. "Lucifer, it's your mother."

Trixie listened shamelessly. Charlotte didn't seem to mind, and continued speaking. "Where is your sister? I've heard that she hasn't been in contact for almost a week." Charlotte frowned at Lucifer's response, replying after a moment, "Lucifer, you didn't have to say that."

Trixie edged around the desk, trying to hear, but she could not catch the other side of the conversation.

Charlotte sighed, shaking her head, "You don't _sound_ sure. You sound worried, and the little bug is worried, too. You do remember that Azrael can be injured, yes? Thanks to your father."

After a moment of listening to Lucifer, Charlotte turned her gaze on Trixie, who scooted back to the other size of the desk. "It says it's an orchid mantis." Trixie beamed at that, and Charlotte continued, "Actually, it's Detective Decker's offspring, but apparently-" She stopped speaking, and Trixie could hear Lucifer's voice as he spoke more loudly, though she couldn't understand his words. She thought she heard her name.

When Charlotte spoke once more, her voice was smooth and soothing. "Why would I do that, son? She came here to my office to see if I knew where Azrael is." Charlotte paused a moment, and there was something in her voice that Trixie didn't understand as she continued. "As your father sent her to you, I assumed that you would know, but clearly you don't."

After a few moments of silence, Charlotte's cool gaze flicked back to Trixie, but it was to her son that she spoke. "Lucifer, what are you implying?" A petulant expression crossed her face as she listened to Lucifer, and then replied, "Very well, son. But what about your sister? It sounds like you're more concerned about-"

Again, it sounded like Lucifer was interrupting his mother. Trixie wondered at that; her own mother was not a fan of being interrupted. It looked as if Rae's mother felt the same, as she looked rather irritated. "Keep me posted about Azrael," she concluded, before disconnecting the call.

Turning to Trixie, Charlotte considered the girl for a moment. "My son has asked that I send you to Lux," she said, still looking a little annoyed. "I'll have my assistant take care of the details, but I suggest you get a Cosmo when you get there. Amenadiel - that's Lucifer's brother - particularly likes them. And you'll probably enjoy the color."

Trixie nodded agreeably, settling in to wait as Charlotte called her assistant, the man from the front desk, into the room. He looked puzzled as to how Trixie had gotten into the office, but was amenable to taking charge of her. His boss had certainly asked him to do weirder things, after all. As she trailed along behind the tall man, Charlotte called smoothly after her, "Little bug? Be sure to tell your father I said hello."


	34. Chapter 34

**Author's note: I'm not sure if notifications were sent out for my past two chapters. Chapter 33 was Mum and Trixie, and 32 was Rae and Josh. If you missed them, please catch up before reading this one.**

 **Also, there seem to be a lot of new followers lately, or possibly just late notifications. In any event, welcome, and thanks for follows, faves, and reviews!**

* * *

Lucifer and Chloe made their way up to the penthouse at Lux. They were in a holding pattern on their current case, a particularly grisly double-murder involving a pair of high school students, and Lucifer had coaxed Chloe to Lux. "We might as well wait in comfort, Detective," he'd urged, and Chloe, for once, had agreed.

Stepping through the elevator doors, Chloe asked, "Have you heard from Rae?"

"No," Lucifer replied as he followed Chloe. He strode over to the bar and poured himself a drink. "Know it's a bit early for you," he said, with a nod to his glass. "Feel free to grab something from the kitchen. I do have drinks without alcohol, though I know that's a stretch."

"I'm shocked," Chloe teased, though she did make her way into the kitchen. She came back with a bottle of water, shaking her head at the expensive brand. "About your sister," she began, though not without some hesitation.

Looking a little embarrassed, Lucifer admitted, "Miss Lopez actually cornered me about her this morning while you and Daniel were harassing that science teacher."

"We weren't harassing her," Chloe protested. "We were... you know what, never mind. What did Ella say? It'd be good to have something to tell Trixie."

Lucifer shook his head as he crossed to the couch. "Apparently Maze took her off somewhere. I texted Maze to find out where they went, but she didn't answer. I asked Miss Lopez to track Rae's phone, but she had no luck." He paused a moment, then admitted, "Miss Lopez said Rae was upset after... everything that happened the night of the play. I must admit that I noticed something similar."

Chloe frowned a little, asking, "Was she upset that Trixie and I found out? She did seem a little rattled."

Lucifer shrugged. "I have no idea. She wouldn't talk to me about it - actually lied and said she was okay, if you can believe that."

Chloe chuckled. "Yeah, because you're so open and honest about _your_ feelings." She hummed quietly, adding, "Maze was just coming back from a job. She should be home now, though. She was looking after Trixie after school today."

Lucifer nodded his thanks, though not without a wry smile for the mention of feelings, but his phone rang before he could call Maze. "Mum," he said, with a look of annoyance. After a long moment during which he visibly considered not answering, he accepted the call. "Yes?" Trying not to sigh too heavily, he replied, "Yes, I know. Your name popped up on my screen. What do you want?"

Chloe moved to the entrance to the balcony, giving him the semblance of privacy, and Lucifer said, "I don't know, Mum. You know how she is - or do you? It's been a while, after all." He added to Chloe, a little more quietly, "She wants to know where Rae is as well."

Chloe made a vaguely affirmative noise, and Lucifer continued, a bit uneasily, "Yes, well, sometimes she does this. I'm sure she's fine."

Lucifer shifted on the couch. Sounding exasperated, he said, "Of course I remember." After a fractional pause, he added, confused, "Little... bug? What sort of bug? Did you happen to eat any special mushrooms lately?"

Chloe listened despite herself, attention caught by the strangeness of Lucifer's words.

When Lucifer spoke again, his voice was louder, sharp with concern. "Beatrice? What is she doing there? Where are you? Mother, I swear, if you've done something to her..."

Chloe was at Lucifer's side almost before she'd thought to move. "Trixie?" she stage whispered, grabbing at Lucifer's arm. "Lucifer, what's going on?"

Lucifer held up one finger to Chloe, shaking his head as he spoke, tone firm. "No. Look, I'm - no, it'd take too much time. Just put Beatrice in a cab and send her to Lux." There was a brief pause as he listened, and then he replied tartly, "Mother, I know how you feel about humanity, and I'd be much happier with Beatrice *away* from your company."

He listened once more and then said crisply, "I'll handle it. Cab, Mother. Now, if you please."

Lucifer ended the phone call and Chloe demanded, "Is Trixie with your mother?"

Lucifer nodded, looking troubled. "Apparently your offspring took it upon herself to go to my mother's office in search of information about Azrael."

"Maze is supposed to be watching her," Chloe replied, frustrated. "Are you sure putting her in a taxi was the right call? I can go get her."

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Best to get her away from Mum as soon as possible. I don't think my mother would harm Beatrice," he was quick to say, "but she's not the best influence, especially not for a small human." At the mention of Maze, he sent off a quick text.

Chloe nodded, though she still looked upset. "I knew she was worried about Rae, but I never thought she'd do something like this." With a frown, she added, "She's supposed to go to Dan's tonight. I'll have him come here to get her."

"Well, children push boundaries as they grow," Lucifer observed. "Or so I'm told." His phone rang, and, with a murmur of apology, he took the call. "Yes, Patrick? What? No. Definitely not." He listened for a moment, and his expression grew intrigued. "Really?" he purred. "Yes, go ahead. Send them up. Oh, and young Beatrice is on her way as well. Have someone watch for her, and send her up as soon as she arrives." He ended the call and tucked the phone away. "Detective, I have a distraction," he announced. "Patrick is sending up the priest from St. Brennan's, as well as the young man who kissed my sister after that ridiculous play."

"Wait, what?" Chloe queried, looking both startled and amused.

Lucifer grinned. "Kissed her right in the vestibule. Of course, she's not interested, but I have to admire the chap. Amenadiel and I were right there, and Amenadiel had been doing that looming thing he does so well. Cheeky little bastard." He seemed torn between his amused admiration and his desire to protect his sister.

Chloe had to smile at his expression, a tiny bit of her worry displaced. If nothing else, this would give her something to think about while she waited for Trixie's arrival. Traffic being what it was, that could take a while.

The elevator doors opened, and Chloe recognized the young priest she had avoided after Azrael's revelation, as well as the boy who had played Joseph in the play.

"Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Morningstar," the priest said, approaching Lucifer with his hand extended. "Father Joe Callahan, from St. Brennan's."

Lucifer ignored both the greeting and the outstretched hand, instead focusing on the boy. "Jack, I'd been meaning to track you down."

The boy, who had been gaping at the penthouse, turned to Lucifer with a rather wary expression. "Me? Why?"

"Well, clearly you need some pointers," Lucifer replied, with a charming smile. "And I'd be happy to share my experience with you - provided you don't then attempt to use your knowledge on my sister."

"Lucifer -" Chloe began, shaking her head and offering a look of apology to the priest, but Lucifer steamrolled ahead.

"First off, you need a proper venue if you're looking for some action, and a church is only good for the post-coital self-flagellation you people seem to love. Not that flagellation is necessarily a bad thing, mind, but I've always found it more interesting _during_ , rather than after -"

" _Lucifer_!" Chloe looked ready to drag Lucifer away from Jack, though the boy's look of horrified fascination didn't really make it clear whether or not he'd welcome an end to the conversation.

"Detective, I'm helping," Lucifer protested. "His technique is all wrong; he's never going to -"

"No," Chloe said firmly. Turning back to the priest, who was clearly torn between shock and embarrassment, she said, "I'm so sorry about that. I'm Chloe Decker. Can I help you somehow?"

Father Joe, looking a bit rattled, shook her hand. "Nice to meet you. Didn't I see you after the play?"

Nodding, Chloe replied, "My daughter and I came to see Lucifer's sister."

A look of relief crossed the priest's face at the segue. "Yes," he said. "Rae. Such a lovely girl, though she has some interesting ideas, theologically speaking."

"I'll just bet she does," Lucifer muttered, with a smirk.

Casting a quelling look at her partner, Chloe said, "Is there something we can do for you?"

Gathering his composure, Father Joe said, "Yes, it's about Rae. She wasn't at Mass on Sunday. She'd also said that she would help out playing piano for choir practice last night, since Mrs. Jenkins had to visit her sister in Sedona, but she never came. She's been so reliable... we wanted to make sure that she's all right." With a little frown, he added, "I tried calling downstairs, but they wouldn't put me through."

Lucufer made a mental note to find out who had turned down the call and give that person a raise.

"Is she mad?" Jack asked, his unsure gaze finally landing briefly on Lucifer. "Because of what I... you know."

Lucifer clapped the boy on the shoulder. "Oh, it's not your fault. The kiss wasn't that bad." After a moment of thoughtful hesitation, he amended, "Well, no, it was, but I'm sure that's not why she's gone."

Father Joe frowned. "She's gone?" he echoed. "So it's not just that she didn't come to church?"

Jack, not looking especially reassured by Lucifer's words, turned to Chloe as the person least likely to discuss his love life, or lack thereof. "Somebody came to the church looking for Rae, after the play was over," he told her, clearly worried. "She seemed... angry."

Chloe, after a look at Lucifer, went into detective mode. "Did she tell you her name?"

Jack shook his head.

Lucifer, frowning, said, "But Rae left Miss Lopez's house with Maze. Whoever this mysterious angry woman is, she can't have gotten past Maze."

Father Joe listened with some concern. "Jack came and told me what happened, after the woman left. When Rae didn't come to choir practice, we thought you should know."

"Thank you," Chloe said to the priest, before turning her attention to Jack once more. "What did she look like?"

The boy, after a vaguely guilty look toward his priest, gave a stammering, careful description of Maze that nonetheless managed to convey both her identity and his impression of her.

"It's okay," Chloe told Jack with a smile. "We know who she is, but thanks for coming and telling us what happened."

"Who is she?" Jack asked, trailing behind Father Joe as the priest crossed to Lucifer.

"Oh, she's a bounty hunter," Lucifer replied, and then he choked on a laugh as Jack promptly tripped over a chair.

Father Joe, frowning, said to Lucifer, "You don't seem all that concerned with your sister's absence, Mr. Morningstar. Have her parents been informed that she's missing?"

"Not that it's your business, Padre, but I just spoke with my mother on that very subject," Lucifer said tartly. "As for dear old Dad, I'm sure he knows where she is. Not that he cares."

"Well, as your sister is one of my parishioners, it _is_ my business," Father Joe replied, though his tone remained calm. "Have you contacted the police?"

Chloe, seeing from Lucifer's manner that his temper was fraying, started to steer the priest toward the exit. "I'm actually a detective with the LAPD," she assured him. "We really are worried about Rae, and we're working on bringing her back."

A little mollified, Father Joe pushed the button for the elevator, gesturing for Jack to to join him. Pausing at the elevator, the priest said, "We'll be praying for Rae."

As the elevator doors closed, Jack could be heard to ask, "Father Joe, what's flagellation?"

Lucifer made a noise of disgust at the mention of prayer as the elevator doors slid shut. "Fat lot of good that will do them," he scoffed. "But well done, Maze! Corrupting an altar boy *and* diverting his attention from my sister."

"Do you really think your father knows where she is?" Chloe queried.

Lucifer nodded, though his expression was wry. "Assuming he's paying attention. She's never exactly been his priority."

Chloe regarded Lucifer for a long moment, weighing whether to say it. She took a deep breath. "You could ask him."

"No." Lucifer's tone brooked no argument.

Chloe visibly considered pushing the issue anyway, but something about Lucifer's manner suggested that this would not be a good idea. "Fine," she said. "Then I will." Should she fold her hands? Kneel? Knowing that doing either of those things would make her feel stupid, she strode out to the balcony, ignoring Lucifer's derisive snort.

"He's not going to answer."

Chloe took a deep breath and addressed the sky. "Hi. It's Chloe... but I guess you know that." With a nervous, awkward chuckle, she continued, "We've lost track of your daughter Rae, and we'd really appreciate it if you could point us in the right direction to find her. She's a great kid - uh, ageless celestial being - and we miss her, especially my little girl." She paused a moment, listening, trying to wrap her head around the fact that she'd just _prayed._ It was somehow easier to imagine she was addressing Lucifer's father rather than some deity... even though they were the same guy.

Still inside the penthouse, Lucifer repeated, now in singsong, "He's not going to answer, Detective."

"And speaking of kids," Chloe continued, "While your son is currently acting like a particularly annoying five year-old, he deserves better than you've been treating him. All your kids do - at least, the ones I've met. You need to step up and be a better parent." Chloe hesitated, unsure how to finish and turned to see Lucifer watching her, his eyes soft, his mockery gone. Chloe took a breath to speak, but then the elevator dinged, announcing an arrival.

The two of them turned, startled. Had the prayer actually been answered?

"Lucifer!" Trixie darted out of the elevator and flung herself at the Devil, clinging to his waist. Looking up at him, she added, "Your mom is weird."

"Quite," Lucifer agreed with a grimace, holding his hands up so that he wouldn't inadvertently touch the child.

"Trixie!" Chloe rushed in from the balcony and Trixie prudently put Lucifer between herself and her mother, her small hands clutching the back of his jacket.

"Easy on the Armani," Lucifer protested.

Chloe knelt to put herself closer to eye-level with Trixie, ignoring Lucifer's sudden grin at her proximity. The Devil edged to the side, leaving Trixie to face her mother and trying to avoid the girl's look of betrayal.

"Trixie, what were you thinking?" Chloe asked, her voice calm but her worry evident. "You can't just walk out of the house like that and not tell anybody."

Lucifer, moving to pour himself a drink, queried, "However did you get past Maze?"

Trixie regarded her mother for a moment, then looked over to Lucifer. "I waited until she was in the shower," she replied, subdued.

Lucifer nodded as he took a drink. "Did you consider her reaction when she realized you were gone?" he asked casually. "Maze is a good friend to have, but you really don't want to get on her bad side. Well, actually," he added, with a brief grin, "She doesn't have a bad side, but the point remains."

Trixie had, in fact, not thought beyond getting to Rae's mom and getting answers. Now she had no answers, was probably in Big Trouble, and had likely upset Maze.

Chloe, seeing the realization hit her daughter, said gently, "Monkey, why did you go see Charlotte Richards?" She stood and guided her daughter to the couch, sitting with Trixie next to her.

"Nobody's doing anything about Rae being gone," Trixie replied, blinking back tears. "I thought her mom might know where she was."

"Beatrice, my sister really can look after herself," Lucifer offered, swirling his drink and peering into the glass. "You do recall that she's an angel, yes? She does know her way around the world. And, well, she's not exactly used to staying just in one place."

Trixie nodded. "But that's a secret," she said miserably. "Most people think she's a kid, and sometimes people... take kids. What if somebody took Rae, like what happened to me?"

"Oh, Monkey," Chloe breathed, slipping an arm around Trixie and hugging her close.

Trixie burrowed against her mother, hiccupping back a sob.

"Beatrice, I assure you that Malcolm Graham is experiencing his own personal torment in Hell," Lucifer said seriously.

Chloe shook her head at Lucifer, mouthing, "Not helping." To her daughter, she reassured, "What Lucifer means is that Malcom can't hurt you, baby."

"I know," Trixie replied, her voice ragged. "I'm not worried about me, Mommy. But can you and Lucifer look for Rae? Please?" Her voice broke on the last word, and even Lucifer looked concerned at the state of the usually even-keeled little girl.

"Of course," Chloe replied, hugging Trixie once more. "Baby, you should have told me that you were so worried."

The elevator dinged, then opened to release Maze. The demon stalked into the penthouse, clearly furious. She moved to stand before Chloe and Trixie, but her anger faded a notch when she saw the state Trixie was in. "Why are you crying?" she demanded. Turning to Lucifer, she repeated, "Why is she crying? Did your bitch of a mother hurt her? I can take your mother."

"While I really would be interested to see that play out, Mum is not responsible for this... damp unpleasantness," Lucifer replied.

Chloe gently rubbed Trixie's back. "She's just worried about Rae," she explained.

"Maze, I'm sorry I left while you were in the shower." Trixie sniffled, adding plaintively, "Will you help Mommy and Lucifer find Rae?"

Maze frowned at the question and slanted a look at Lucifer. At his nod, she replied, "Sure, little human. I can help."

Trixie offered the demon a tremulous smile. "Thanks, Maze."

Lucifer shook his head, expression thoughtful. Turning to Maze, he said, "She's been gone for far longer in the past, of course, but with her current vulnerability..." He shrugged, adding, "You're the last to have seen her, as far as we know."

Chloe said to Maze, "The priest from St. Brennan's was here today, with that boy Jack. They said you came to the church looking for Rae."

"Apparently you made quite the impression," Lucifer quipped.

Maze started to reply, but closed her mouth when she caught sight of Trixie watching her. Before anyone could press Maze for further information, the elevator dinged again.

"I'm getting more people going in and out of here than they get at LAX," Lucifer exaggerated, with some exasperation. "And not in the fun way."

The doors opened and Dan stepped into the penthouse. He took in the situation at a glance and his expression shifted from vaguely annoyed to concerned. "What's going on?"

Chloe eased away from her daughter with a soothing murmur, then motioned for Dan to join her on the balcony for a more private explanation.

After a moment in which nobody was quite looking at anybody else, Maze sat down next to Trixie. "I'm sorry," the little girl repeated preemptively.

"You should be," Maze replied, her voice clipped.

Lucifer considered the two occupants of the couch, then tossed back the rest of his drink and moved to join them. "Right," he said, sitting in the chair across from the couch. "What would Dr. Linda say here?" Maze regarded him, one skeptical eyebrow raised, and Lucifer addressed her. "You're upset that the little hellion ran off on your watch, yes?"

"No," Maze replied promptly. She met Lucifer's steady gaze for a moment, then looked away, finally admitting reluctantly, "Maybe."

Lucifer turned to Trixie, brows lifted. "What do you think is an appropriate response? After all, you know you shouldn't have acted as you did."

Trixie cast a quick, sidelong look at Maze before turning to Lucifer. Negotiation time. "I could do the dishes?" she suggested. Looking between the Devil and his demon, she amended, "For a week?"

Maze hesitated for long enough that Trixie started to squirm. "Two weeks," she countered.

"Deal," Trixie said, extending a hand. Maze completed the handshake, though not without a murmur about deals being Lucifer's thing, and the little girl smiled. "Can I have a Cosmo?"

"What? No," Chloe said, as she and Dan returned to the room just in time to catch their daughter's question and the beginning of Lucifer's affirmative response. Ignoring Trixie's sigh, she leaned down to hug her daughter, saying, "Time to go, Monkey. Daddy's going to take you back to his place, and I'm going to come by later so we can all talk about what happened today."

Trixie cast a quick look between Lucifer and Maze.

"No need, Detective," Lucifer said brightly. "Maze and I sorted all that. I'm quite good at this, as it turns out."

Chloe managed not to roll her eyes, but dashed Trixie's hopes by saying to her, "Daddy and I are still talking to you later, Monkey."

Dan reached to take his daughter's hand, with a headshake and a brief chuckle toward Lucifer. "Nice try, man." To Chloe, he added, "See you tonight."

"Oh, Daddy, " Trixie said, waving goodbye with her free hand and then reaching to push the elevator's call button. "Rae's mom said to tell you hi."

Chloe noted Dan's startled, almost guilty reaction as the pair stepped into the elevator and the doors closed, and filed it away as something to be discussed at a later date. Turning back to Lucifer and Maze, she sat in one of the chairs only to see Maze's smirk and Lucifer's look of profound discomfort. "What?"

"Trust me," Maze said, with a throaty chuckle, "you do not want to know."

Chloe sighed, her unspoken _Fine_ obvious. Setting her ex-husband's oddness aside for the moment, she turned her attention to the demon. "Maze, you were the last one to see Rae that we know of. Where did the two of you go when you left Ella's place?"

"I'm not one of your suspects, Decker," the demon replied. Her lips curving, she added, "If you're going to question me like one, the least you could do is cuff me first."

"Ah, there's an image that's going to stay with me," Lucifer observed, with a broad smile. "The question does have merit, though, Maze. Why did you get Rae from Miss Lopez's place?"

Maze shifted in her seat, then turned to Lucifer. "You serious about wanting to find her, or was it just a show for the kid?"

"Quite serious," Lucifer replied. "I... want to put Beatrice's mind at ease."

Chloe hid a smile. "Of course, yes, thank you," she agreed. "I'm sure that's it." She ignored Lucifer's quick look and refrained from further teasing; she knew he'd never admit to missing his little sister.

Maze inclined her head. "Okay, then." She reached into the inside pocket of her jacket and pulled out a small cloth bundle, which she handed to Lucifer.

Lucifer took the bundle and opened it, then surged to his feet, catching the demon's wrist in an iron grip. "Mazikeen, what have you done?" The words held the weight of fury; his eyes flared red.

Chloe, unthinking, thrust herself between the Devil and his demon, one hand on Lucifer's chest. Lucifer, somewhat to everyone's surprise, subsided, his eyes shading back to their usual brown. He released his grip on Maze's arm.

Chloe took a breath and eased back a step. "You good?" she asked Lucifer. He nodded silently, though his gaze remained on Mazikeen; he shifted his hand so Chloe could see what was wrapped in the cloth: a large gray feather, the calamus neatly split.

"Huh," Maze murmured, glancing between the two. To Lucifer, she explained, unrepentant, "I didn't do anything. I didn't even hit her, and, trust me, I had the chance. I threw a knife at her - to scare her - and she didn't get far enough out of the way. If I'd meant to hurt her, she'd be hurt. You know she's shit at ducking." With a snort that almost sounded offended, she added, "Would have thought she'd have figured out ducking by now, but I guess not."

"Why would you hit her?" Chloe asked, puzzled. "And why did you throw a knife at her?" She did not ask what had so enraged Lucifer about the damaged feather, though she cast a curious look his way.

When Maze didn't answer, Lucifer offered tightly, "Maze and Azrael have had a long association, and not usually a positive one. Though I thought the two of you had resolved your issues?"

"Why doesn't matter," Maze replied shortly. "She was fine when I left her. And with that -" Here a nod to the feather that Lucifer cradled in one hand, "- maybe you can find her. If you really want to."

"Why wouldn't he want to, Maze?" Chloe asked. "She's his little sister."

"Not that fraternal relations necessarily count for anything in my family," Lucifer murmured. "But you have thoughts on the matter, Maze?"

The demon eyed Lucifer. "Aren't we overlooking the obvious, here?"

"What do you mean?" Lucifer queried, brows lifting. He shot a quick glance to Chloe, who shrugged; clearly, it wasn't obvious to her, either.

Maze sighed. "You know TD won't shut up about how much she wants to go home. What if the big guy finally said yes?"

"TD?" Chloe murmured with a look of inquiry to Lucifer.

"Tiny Death," Lucifer replied absently, his brows lowering in thought. "I suppose that could have happened, but I would have thought that she'd come and say goodbye first..."

Maze shrugged. "Maybe she was so glad to leave..." Catching that flash of hurt in Lucifer's expression, she relented. "Or maybe your dad wouldn't let her."

"Speculation gets us nowhere," Lucifer said crisply. As Chloe watched in fascination, he closed his eyes and folded his hands. "... nope," he said, after a moment. "If she's been restored to her celestial form, she's not answering."

"She'd answer, Lucifer," Chloe said gently. "So _can_ you track her with the feather?"

Lucifer frowned down at the object in his hand. "Let's find out, shall we?" He teased the feather out of its cloth cocoon and let it touch his skin, closing his eyes. "She hasn't returned to the Silver City," he said finally. "But she's not nearby. East." He opened his eyes, repeating softly, "East."

Maze snorted, ruining any semblance of a moment. "Thought it'd be more specific than that."

Miffed, Lucifer replied, "Well, I'm not Google Maps, am I? It'll get clearer as I get closer." He added, in an irritable mutter, "Better than following a bloody star, that's for sure."

"So, what, you just... hop in a car and drive east?" Chloe inquired dubiously.

"Or fly," Lucifer agreed thoughtfully. At the startled look from Chloe, he clarified patiently as he wrapped the feather back in its cloth, "In a plane, Detective. No wings, remember?"

"Wait, those wings were..."

Lucifer nodded. "My actual wings, yes."

As Chloe shook her head, Maze queried, "You want me to come?"

After a long moment of consideration, Lucifer shook his head. "Shouldn't be necessary."

Maze nodded and started for the exit. One hand on the elevator door, she turned. "Decker." As Chloe looked over, she shifted in place. "Don't be too hard on the kid. She had a good reason, even if what she did was dumb. Just tell her to ask me if she ever wants info out of Momma Morningstar. I'd be..." Maze pondered her word choice with a smirk. "Very happy to oblige."

"Thanks, Maze," Chloe replied, and the demon let the doors close behind her.

Lucifer refilled his glass, and then drained its contents. "I really hope Rae isn't going to be put out about being found," he mused. "She's really no fun when she's annoyed."

"But what if something happened to her," Chloe said quietly. "I mean, she's far away, right? She's not hiding out somewhere nearby." She hesitated, then added, "If you want, I can..."

Lucifer shook his head. "You have your job, and your offspring. I do appreciate the thought, but I'm not sure how long this us going to take. I can handle things."

"Right," Chloe agreed. A pause. "Because you're the Devil."

Lucifer turned, with a faint smile. "I was thinking it was because I'm her brother." As Chloe fumbled with an apology, he shook his head. "No worries Detective. But I'd best start making arrangements."

Chloe nodded. "Keep me posted, yeah?"

Lucifer smiled. "Of course," he agreed.

The detective left, and Lucifer stepped out to the balcony. He lit a cigarette and took his time smoking it, then deliberately ground it out in the ashtray. Finally, he said quietly, "She's better be all right, old man." Then, taking out his phone, he returned to the penthouse and started to prepare for his journey.


	35. Chapter 35

Later, when they asked her what she was thinking - and the question was repeated in all manners: confused, worried, angry, disappointed - she almost always said she didn't know, if she bothered to answer at all.

That wasn't quite the truth.

* * *

After Josh's departure, Azrael returned to her earlier pattern of spending the day in flight and then collapsing into bed. She pushed herself harder, practicing with a diligence she hadn't possessed the first time she'd learned to fly, and her body responded; it grew more difficult to get out of bed in the mornings, but she found, almost, a certain pride in this mortal body. She resolved that she could bend it to her will, if only she tried hard enough.

Her phone remained in the front pocket of her backpack, dark and silent; her books unopened, her piano untouched. She ate sparingly, though she smiled when she filled her cereal bowl. She did not address her father: not before meals or when she was caught by the beauty of her surroundings, not when an attempt at an aerial trick failed - she had other words she used then, or she tried again in grim silence. The closest she came to calling to him was in that moment just before sleep, when everything blurred toward oblivion. It was then that she'd form the beginnings of a prayer: _please_ or _why_ or _listen, for once_ , but she never managed more than that before slumber overtook her. In the morning, if she recalled her attempts, she pushed away the hot shame and tried to be grateful that sleep had prevented their completion. What could she say, after all, that she hadn't already said countless times already? What would make him reply?

When she allowed herself a rare moment to think, she admitted that she had been in this particular headspace before, in the millenia of her existence. All the other times, she'd had her job to occupy her, and something - revisiting a place she enjoyed, or some new bit of cleverness from the mortals, or the relentless press of her work reminding her that just stopping was not an option - nudged her back to what passed for normalcy. The most recent time, back in the sixteenth century, it had been Lucifer - and, she conceded, in that tiny corner of her mind not fogged by exhaustion, the forbidden novelty of the alcohol he had coaxed her to try - that had pulled her back.

Josh had not brought alcohol. She did not think that had been unintentional.

Lucifer was... not there.

She could change that, she knew. Oh, not that Lucifer would hear if she called to him, but another brother would. Josh or Raphael would gladly take her back to LA in the blink of an eye. Well, Michael would as well, but she wouldn't ask him when she had alternatives.

And it wasn't even that she didn't want to go back. She was in her head too much here, she knew that. But contrariness kept her here, in this place that was hers alone, where she didn't have to worry so much about appeasing her father.

Well, that and the flying.

Always the flying.

It was easier here, where she didn't have to worry that she'd inadvertently reveal herself, as she had to Chloe and Trixie - though she had her suspicions about the circumstances of that particular event. The sheer openness of her surroundings made flying a glory, almost a prayer in itself.

Flying had come naturally to her when she was as young as this body appeared. She'd taunted her older siblings with her dives and her hairpin turns: _You can't catch me!_ And they couldn't, or, more likely, they'd let her believe they couldn't; the amused tolerance of her elders was one of the few benefits of being so near to the youngest.

Now, with her wings on this ungainly body, she had to struggle for what had been effortless. But she had to be grateful, always grateful, for at least she had her wings. Amenadiel had learned that what their father granted could just as easily be taken away. Father could again decide that her silence meant sullenness, rather than her real need to have this time to herself. So: gratitude.

This was her state of mind when the storm hit. She was, naturally, on the far side of the valley, perched on a ledge for a breather and thinking resentful thoughts about the sheer volume of moisture the mortal body could produce. She wiped her forehead with the back of her sleeve, though the puffy fabric absorbed very little, and exhaled a long breath, watching the fog of condensation with vague interest.

While she had been moving, she'd been fine, but she could feel the chill settling in her extremities the longer she rested. Well, then: break time over. She got carefully to her feet, but had to grab for the side of the rock face as the wind gusted. Wedging herself against the rocks, she squinted at the sky, observing the ragged, dark gray clouds with some trepidation. Mentally measuring the distance back to her house, she shook her head, thinking, _Raziel, if you ever cared for me..._

Azrael chose to believe that the snow that poured from the sky was not her brother's way of telling her that he wanted to remain Angel of Death with no interference from her. At least, she thought, she could no longer see the clouds.

Clinging to the rock face, Azrael tried to gather her thoughts, to find a solution to her predicament. The temperature and increasing windspeed made waiting out the storm impossible in her tiny, unsheltered ledge. Really, as so often seemed to happen in her life, there was no choice, or at least none she could find at the moment.

Heart pounding, she unfurled her wings, pointed herself toward her house, took a deep breath, and jumped.

For just a moment, her desperate attempt at reaching the house seemed possible. The gusting wind sent her in the proper direction faster than she had ever managed in this body, and the combination of the exhilaration of flight and the peril of her situation focused Azrael's tired brain. Thus, she was completely aware when everything went off the rails, when the wind swirled her off-course and her left wing twisted in a way that wings should not move. Gasping with the pain, she tried desperately to continue, but her damaged wing refused to obey and she fell, plummeting toward the ground and hitting with a sickening crunch.

Panicking, Azrael struggled to breathe, but the pain overwhelmed her and defied any attempts to catalog her injuries. Her arm buckled when she attempted to push herself upright, and she fell back, staring skyward.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before the figure bent over her. Waves of dizziness made it impossible to keep her eyes open for more than a few seconds at a time, but she saw hands reaching for her and flinched away in anticipation of more pain.

Everything stopped.

No, only the pain.

Strong hands lifted her, and she found herself cradled against a scratchy wool sweater. She managed to keep her eyes open long enough to focus on a concerned face. "Child, what were you thinking?"

Realization struck as unconsciousness threatened. She struggled against it, and he held her closer. "Hush, now. Time enough for explanations later."

Azrael managed one word before the darkness claimed her. "... Dad?"

* * *

 **Author's note: This one is a little different for me, and I'd appreciate hearing what you think.**


	36. Chapter 36

**Note: The quoted poem is Rilke (trans. Joanna Macy and Anita Barrows), but that poem (Sonnets to Orpheus II, 29) is from a different book. I just couldn't resist the title of the book I used.**

 **This one got away from me just a bit.**

* * *

Azrael clawed her way to consciousness and immediately regretted the decision. Her whole body ached, more in some spots than others, though it was a manageable pain. Worse was the fatigue, which made her wonder if somehow the gravity in the room had been increased, pressing her deeper into the bed. She took a cautious breath and then another, deeper one when the first proved to be a success. Bracing herself upright on one elbow with some effort, she surveyed the room: her room, in her house, empty but for herself.

She propped herself up against the headboard, needing the support. Had she hallucinated what she thought she remembered? She'd definitely hit her head, that much was clear, and her memories of her fall were clouded. From the little she remembered, that was a blessing. But the man, the person who'd helped her...

Of course it wasn't him. Of course not. He'd never come here. Not for her.

A chair from the living room was tucked next to her bed, a book spine-up on the seat. Poetry. _Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God_. She did not remember that she owned that book, though she did enjoy Rilke. Suddenly she had a flash of memory: waking briefly to the sound of a low, deep voice reading to her.

 _Let this darkness be a bell tower_  
 _and you the bell. As you ring,_  
 _what batters you becomes your strength._

"Dad." The word emerged as a whisper; she hadn't spoken much lately. She coughed and tried again. "Dad?"

Footsteps sounded from the hall and he appeared in her doorway, a glass of water in hand: an older man with salt-and-pepper hair and beard. He wore a thick, blue sweater, and her cheek remembered its scratchiness. His expression was one of concern. Strange, she thought, to see such a look on a face she associated with her father.

"You shouldn't be up," he said, "but since you are, would you like a drink?"

Azrael stared at him for a long moment, still not quite believing he was there, then nodded. "Please." Manners. He approved of manners.

Her father - her _father?_ \- came the rest of the way into the room and held the glass while she drank from the straw. When she'd finished, he set the glass aside and returned to the chair, laying the book next to the glass. "You should lie down," he urged. "That body has been through a lot."

As she had come to a similar conclusion, Azrael eased back, though still at an angle that she could see the man, exhaling a soft sigh. She studied his face, then repeated softly, "Dad?"

He nodded, with a look of inquiry.

She looked away a moment, then back to him. Risking it, she asked, "What are you doing here?"

He shifted in his seat, adjusting the chair so that it was just so. "I come down from time to time. Get the lay of the land, that sort of thing. Never for very long, though; too much to do upstairs." Smiling a little at her shocked expression, he added, "It's not something I advertise, so I'd appreciate it if you would keep that under your hat."

"Of course," Azrael replied immediately, though not without a little inwardly-directed contempt for the surge of pride she felt at his apparent trust. _Stop_ , she chided herself. _He probably wants something; that's why he's acting like this_. The fact that she knew she'd do what he wanted no matter how he acted... well. Suddenly, though, those times when he wouldn't see anyone made a little more sense.

"I don't think that's what you were asking, though."

Azrael shook her head, thinking - but definitely not saying - that she was certainly used to oblique answers and half-truths from most of her family, and that even that non-answer was more than she was accustomed to hearing from her father.

Something of her mistrust must have shown on her face, for her father sat forward, arms braced against his knees, his clasped hands brushing the bed. He met her gaze with an intensity that made her want to look away, though she found that she couldn't. "I'm here because of what happened in the valley."

Azrael dragged her eyes from her father's, looking at her hands instead. "You mean... the storm?" she queried uneasily. "What happened wasn't as bad as all that."

"It _was_ as bad as all that," he replied, his voice quiet but firm. "If your brother hadn't been keeping an eye on you, if he hadn't told me... child, you took an unacceptable risk."

Azrael looked up once more. Her lips pressed together tightly, then she said, "Even if this body died, I just would have returned to the Silver City." This was clearly not exactly a bad outcome, from her perspective.

"Your work here isn't finished, though," her father said, a familiar stern note creeping into his tone. "You know that."

Azrael nodded. She spoke slowly, doing her best to choose her words with care, though her though her increasing fatigue made that a challenge. "I do," she agreed softly. "I wasn't trying to... to go home. I just... I thought I could make it back here, to the house. I almost did."

"Maybe your definition of _almost_ is different than mine," he chided. "Or maybe you overestimated your abilities."

Azrael tried not to let her resentment show on her face. Yes, she privately admitted, she probably _had_ overestimated her abilities, but she would have been just fine if she'd had her supernatural skills, rather than this mortal body. Seeing her father watching her, she nodded, though she still wasn't going to make the admission aloud.

Her father cleared his throat, drawing her attention once more. "You should talk to someone when you get back to LA," he suggested gruffly. "Samael's therapist. Dr. Martin."

"Dad, I'm fine," Azrael replied, though she kept her tone meek. Catching sight of his frown, she capitulated, "All right. I will. I'll call her when I get back." She risked a glance at her father. He was still watching her, inscrutable as always, and she dared to say, "I just... I don't understand, Father. Michael was going to bring me home, but then Josh said that you want me to go back to LA."

Smiling a little at her nickname for her brother, he nodded. "Circumstances have changed," he said, his expression sobering. "In coming here, you actually contributed to the change."

Azrael kept her expression bland, and managed not to sigh. It was, after all, the sort of answer she'd expected. "I don't suppose you could be more specific?" she suggested, trying a hopeful smile.

"I don't suppose I could."

Of course not.

Azrael fidgeted with her blanket. These awkward silences, she remembered suddenly: they tended to happen on those rare occasions that she was alone with her father. She ventured, more to break the silence than because she expected an actual answer, "Why did you send me there, to LA? Was it... was it because of Uriel?"

"Of course," he replied mildly.

She let her eyes close. She'd never thought he'd say it outright. So Michael had gotten it right after all. "I never imagined that he'd take my blade," she whispered miserably. "Or that he'd come here. Father, I'm sorry, I promise I'll-"

"Azrael, look at me." Startled, she did. "You need to let go of this guilt before it consumes you," her father instructed, though his faint smile implied that he knew this was no easy thing he asked. His face turning mournful, he added, "Uriel was always determined, and Samael... well, he was put in a difficult spot. Your part in your brother's death was very small, child, and you certainly weren't sent here as penance for it."

Azrael stared at her father. Her mind was working slowly, still numbed by the events of the day and by her growing exhaustion. "I don't understand."

Her father leaned closer once more. "How could I ask you to collect the souls of the dead when your brother, whom you loved, had died?" he explained gently. "How could I expect you to deliver them to the Silver City and hear someone else give the welcome speech? You needed a change, daughter, and Samael has always lifted your spirits."

Azrael could not think. She wiped mutely at her overflowing eyes with the back of her hand; her father, after a moment, fumbled a handkerchief from his pocket. She took it and wiped her eyes once more, unable to do anything but look at her father. Finally, she managed, a catch to her voice, "But Michael said..."

"Michael spoke in error, and has been chastised." Seeing Azrael's lips curve just a bit, her father added, a note of reproof in his voice, "Schadenfreude is not becoming, daughter."

Azrael looked away for a moment as she smoothed her features to a more neutral expression, murmuring an apology, but a small, uncharitable part of herself still rejoiced at the news.

Her father did not look fooled, but he said only, "You have more questions, child?"

Azrael nodded. "I... yes." She took a deep breath. "I enjoyed my time in LA, for the most part, and I'll obey you and go back, but will I get to come home?"

"Yes, of course," he replied, sounding a little puzzled. "This was always intended to be temporary; surely your brothers told you that."

With another nod, Azrael replied wryly, "Yes, but one of them was Michael. I believed Josh, of course. I just... wanted to hear it from you."

Her father reached over and patted her hand. "To be clear: yes, you will be able to come home in time, and things will be mostly as they were."

Azrael exhaled a shaky, relieved breath. She noted those key words _in time_ and _mostly_ , but she didn't dare press for details. She'd already learned far more than she'd hoped. "Thank you, Dad." She risked a glance at him and said tentatively, "I would better accomplish your will if I knew what you wanted me to do."

Her father sat up. "Don't worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine." He got to his feet, adding, "I need to be off." He started for the door, then turned, frowning a little. "Tell your mother..."

Azrael sat up a little, summoning alertness, but her father shook his head, apparently changing his mind. "Your brother will be here soon. Just rest until he gets here, all right?"

Azrael sighed. So close. "Which brother?"

"Samael," he replied, with a tight, tense expression that was more like the father she remembered.

"Lucifer," Azrael corrected without thinking, but her father didn't seem to notice. "Dad, wait," she protested. He gave her a look of inquiry, and she continued, "Stay. Talk to him. Please."

Her father shook his head. "Child, that would not be a good idea. Your brother's not ready. He's still too angry."

Azrael hesitated, then replied, her voice quiet but steady, "I don't entirely blame him."

"Azrael -" Her father clearly throttled back his temper - Lucifer, Azrael observed, came by his own temper honestly - and continued more calmly but still with an edge to his voice. "You were very young when all that happened. You don't have a full understanding of the situation."

Azrael regarded her father for a long moment. "You could explain it," she suggested, but her father shook his head. She sighed and struggled to focus. "You're right," she said finally, fatigue blurring her voice. "He's angry. But, Dad, somebody has to take the first step. Please?"

"I'll think about it," he said, moving back to the chair. "Just rest."

And she did, letting her eyes close, trying not to hope that he would read to her some more. Trixie, she decided, had an excellent point about bedtime stories.

* * *

"No, I think she must have some sort of grudge against me," Lucifer said irritably, half his attention on keeping the rental car - and it wasn't even a sports car, insult upon injury - on the narrow road. Not that he could see the road under all the snow, but at least his was the only car. "Why else would she be in this ridiculous land of snow? The flight being diverted was bad enough, but now these roads..."

Chloe's chuckle sounded through the car speakers. "Because she knew you'd be driving after a snowstorm to come find her, of course. Just be careful, yeah?"

"The Devil doesn't need to be careful," Lucifer replied carelessly. "But staying on this road would be much easier if the snowplow had come through here lately. I'm nearly there, though."

"Okay, good," Chloe replied. "I'm going to let you go so I'm not distracting you, but call me later?"

Lucifer laughed. "Oh, this isn't nearly distracting enough, Detective. If you _really_ wanted to distract me, you could -"

"Goodbye, Lucifer." Her voice was full of laughter, but she still disconnected the call.

It was probably for the best, though if he were honest with himself, he rather preferred his Detective's voice to the music that replaced it when the call ended. He'd forgotten his iPod, and could only pick up two radio stations, country and Christian talk radio. While he'd amused himself by shouting advice to the callers to the talk show, even that got old. Still, he was getting close to his wayward sister. The trip itself had been tiresome, between the travel and the bloody cold, and he was looking forward to its end. Never mind that he still had the return trip. He glanced down at the feather, carefully tucked into his left cuff and pressing against the skin of his wrist.

The car fishtailed, and Lucifer eased off the gas pedal, pulling his attention back to his driving. He was nearly there, and wouldn't it be embarrassing to get into an accident right on Azrael's doorstop... and it did appear that there would be a doorstop, as a small house had come into view. Lucifer pulled the car off the road and into what passed for a driveway.

Lucifer considered the small house: stucco and stone and horizontal lines, classic Prairie School architecture. Charming. He crunched through the snow and to the front door, lamenting the dampness on his shoes. The door opened to his touch, of course, but the house within was silent.

Under other circumstances, the piano would have drawn his attention. An antique rosewood Steinway upright, it looked like it would be a joy to play, but not just now. The room itself was light and airy, with the far wall of windows looking out on the valley beyond.

Azrael was close, Lucifer could tell; her feather was somehow warm against his skin. It had grown cold for a time, while he was driving, and that still worried him. He strode through the room and opened the nearest door just a bit... and there she was. His heart clenched at the sight of his sister. Azrael, whom he'd only ever seen sleep curled on her side, was stretched out prone on top of the blankets. She was - yes, she was breathing, but how had she grown so thin in such a short time, so pale? And was that dried blood in her hair? Lucifer pushed the door open, but stopped at the sight of the man sitting at Azrael's bedside. "Who are you?" he snarled, his voice no less furious for its low volume. "Get away from my sister!"

The man set aside his book and moved toward Lucifer; the Devil stepped closer to the bed, putting himself between the stranger and Azrael.

"Let's go out," the older man suggested. "Your sister needs to rest, and I wouldn't want us to wake her."

Lucifer nodded after a moment's thought; better to get the man farther from Azrael. He gestured, and the older man preceded him from the room; Lucifer, after a final, worried look at his sister, shut the door behind them.

Lightly tugging one cuff of his sweater, the man crossed to exit to the deck, leading Lucifer outside. Lucifer, after a moment of hovering near his sister's door, followed.

"She's agreed to go back with you," the stranger said. "It'd be best if one of your siblings took her, and you as well, if you like. I don't think she could handle the trip otherwise."

Lucifer looked briefly relieved at the mention of his sister's return to LA, though suspicion clouded his features at the rest of the man's words "Who are you, old man?"

The man considered the windows behind him and prudently took two steps to the side, so he was instead standing before a solid wall. "You know who I am, Samael."

After a moment in which he stared at the other man in shock, Lucifer crossed the deck in three long strides and punched his father square in the jaw with a rather excellent left hook, knocking the man back against the wall behind him. "That's not my name anymore, you bastard!"

His father rubbed at his jaw and regarded his son. "It will always be your name, but I'll call you whatever you want, son."

"Don't call me _son_ ," Lucifer spat. "And since when has what I wanted ever mattered to you?"

"Keep your voice down," the older man snapped, with a glance to the still-open door. He closed his eyes for just a moment and took a deep breath, then chuckled wryly. "You always could get under my skin. Sometimes I could tell there'd be a fight just by the set of your shoulders when you came into the room."

Lucifer looked for a moment like he was going to argue with his father's injunction, but he glanced back at the house and nodded briefly. "This isn't nostalgia time," he said, his voice sharp and brittle, a knife that would crumble if it struck a blow. "My question stands."

His father didn't say anything for a long moment. "Son, it was a long time ago-" he began.

"I'm not your son," Lucifer declared, his volume increasing. "Not anymore. Not after the way you treated me. You gave up the right to call me that."

The older man looked away, out the window. "Lucifer," he addressed his son: a concession. "Lucifer," he repeated, though it seemed to pain him to say it. "It's always mattered," he said quietly. "But what you did - I couldn't overlook it. It set a precedent. I couldn't let it go."

"So you threw me out," Lucifer sneered, "Sent me down to Hell. Brilliant solution, old man. You couldn't come up with something else? No, of course not. You didn't want to get your hands dirty."

His father didn't speak for a moment. "It had to be done," he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. "I couldn't let your siblings think I'd tolerate such behavior."

Lucifer threw up his hands in exasperation, turning on his heel. "Who among them would have followed my example? Amenadiel, your warrior? Michael, everyone's favorite sycophant? That idiot Raziel?" Gesturing sharply back to the house, he added, "My sweet little sister Azrael, who still thinks you hung the moon even after everything you've done to her? None of them would have dared."

"Technically, I did hang the moon," his father pointed out. Ignoring his son's profound eye roll, he added, "And Amenadiel isn't exactly the best example to give, considering his current status. As for your sister, she's content with her fate."

"She's not content," Lucifer protested. "She's going along with you so that you'll let her come home."

The older man sighed. "She knows that I'm going to let her come home as soon as she accomplishes her task. I explained all that to her today."

"Right. And what task is it, pray, that involves you sending her to me?" Lucifer queried sharply. "Are you using my sister to interfere in my life?"

His father didn't say anything.

"Answer me," Lucifer pressed.

"Son, you don't-"

It was too much. Lucifer flared into his other form, eyes blazing. "Call me son _one more time_ ," he roared. Gesturing at himself, he added, "Look at what you have wrought, _Dad_. Like what you see?"

His father stepped forward, one hand lifted, but Lucifer batted it away, inexplicably near tears. "Don't touch me. Don't-"

The other stepped back, shook his head. "I shouldn't have stayed," he said quietly. "You're not ready."

"I'm not ready?" Lucifer protested, his form unchanged. "Ready for what?"

But he questioned emptiness, for his father had left.

With an inarticulate roar of frustration, Lucifer stepped forward to punch the wall. He felt a hand on his shoulder and, perhaps thinking his father had returned, turned with a new target for his punch. The other deflected the blow and redirected the energy, sending him staggering toward the edge of the deck.

"Oh," Lucifer said, upon seeing who it was. "It's you. Of _course_ ," he sneered. "He doesn't want to deal with me, so he sends you to do his dirty work." His manic grin was particularly unsettling in his burned form. "Well, you'll do."

Josh considered Lucifer with a barely aspirated sigh. "Seriously? Fine, if that's what you want." He stepped off the deck and into the snow, which rose to his knees. Hands at his sides, he said, "Go ahead, then."

"Oh, don't be such a fucking martyr, Yeshua," Lucifer sneered, following him to the ground.

Josh snorted back a laugh and held up his arms shoulder-height, parallel to the floor. "Can't be avoided, sorry."

Lucifer rolled his blazing eyes and advanced on his brother.

* * *

Lucifer had gone from furious to frustrated over the past ten minutes. Try as he might, he couldn't lay a hand on his youngest brother, though Josh hadn't hit him, either, only tossed him lightly to the ground each time Lucifer had approached. Flat on his back in the snow for at least the fifth time, he finally reverted to his human form and queried, "When did you turn into Action Jesus with the Kung-fu Grip?" At least his brother was breathing hard. That was some small consolation.

Josh shook his head with a small smile, leaning down to offer a hand up. "It's aikido, actually."

Lucifer shrugged and got up without assistance. "Aikido grip doesn't really have the same ring, though." He straightened his suit jacket and sighed, giving it up as a lost cause. Jacket, pants, shoes... and Beatrice wasn't even involved.

Josh nodded, conceding the point and moving to sit on one of the wide deck stairs after first brushing off some of the snow. "I think... well, seeing you in your other form, it was hard for him."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "Oh, well," he drawled sarcastically. "I'd hate to make anything difficult for him, goodness knows. If he thinks seeing it is a challenge, he should try living it." He kicked a clump of snow with an exasperated huff. "What was he even doing here? He never comes here. And what's the matter with Rae? She looks half-dead in there."

Josh leaned down and grabbed a handful of snow, absently compacting it into a ball. "He came here because of Rae. She was out when the storm hit, far side of the valley. Tried to fly back. It... didn't go well."

Lucifer winced. "And the old man was watching out for her?" he queried, his tone disbelieving.

"Well, no," Josh replied, his smile a little bitter. "I was. I came to visit her earlier in the week, gave her some news she didn't like, so I was keeping tabs on her. She... it was bad, brother. I couldn't have healed her, not in time, nor even Raphael. But Dad came. She'll be okay, but she needs to rest."

Lucifer snorted, and moved to sit on the step near Josh. "What, Dad's got you bearing his bad news, now? Lucky you. As for healing Rae, he probably doesn't want to find another flunky to do his bidding, that's all."

Shaking his head, Josh sighed. "He does care for her, Lucifer, he-"

"Yes, well, he doesn't show it very well, does he? Not that that's anything new." Lucifer looked toward the far end of the valley, judging the distance and shaking his head. "I know he's written me off, but the way he's treated Rae..." He shook his head.

"He hasn't written you off," Josh countered, though not without a wary look for his most volatile brother.

Lucifer looked over and said flatly, "Right. Because kicking me out and consigning me to Hell is the sign of a caring, involved parent."

"Believe what you will," Josh replied. "But you're still his son, for all that you won't let him call you that."

Lucifer snorted. "Snooping, were you?"

Josh shrugged. "It's not like he would have told me how that particular conversation went." He looked over, then. "Rae asked him to stay to talk to you, you know. She begged him. That he stayed, talked to you... that means something."

"No, it doesn't," Lucifer replied flatly. "He said... he didn't..." He looked over at his brother, then growled, "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?" Josh replied mildly.

"Like I'm some pathetic, pitiful creature. The Devil doesn't need pity."

"The Devil," Josh replied with a grin, "Needs to stop talking in the third person so much." And he tossed his snowball at his brother, snow exploding into Lucifer's ear and sliding past his shirt collar.

Feeling the cold soak along his spine, Lucifer stared at his brother. "You did not just do that."

"Didn't I?" Josh replied with a grin. He leaned down to scoop up some more snow. "You sure? Well, I guess I should show you again." With that, Josh launched into a dive roll and came up with another snowball, which he flung into Lucifer's chest. "Come on, brother," he urged, grinning. "Maybe you can hit me when you use a snowball, since you sure can't with your fists."

Lucifer drew himself upright, offended, opened his mouth to protest... and promptly ate another snowball.

Lucifer spat out a mouthful of snow. "That does it." He stood, dove behind a bush and started to amass an arsenal of snowballs, much to Josh's delight.

"This'll get him out of his sulk," he mused, compacting another snowball. "Hopefully..."

* * *

Azrael braced herself against the door and flicked on the light in her bathroom, wincing a little at the sight of her reflection. She cast a longing look at her shower, but didn't even try; she was reasonably certain that she wouldn't be able to stay upright long enough, much as she wanted to be clean. Lucifer was on his way, apparently, and having him find her in the shower would be too much. She brushed her teeth, reflecting that it was odd that such a small thing could make her feel better, then sat on the toilet and dampened a washcloth, doing her best to get the blood out of her hair.

The surreal nature of her day hit her with a jolt, and she leaned forward, bracing her arms on her thighs, her head in her hands. How much of what she remembered was real? The fall, yes. She wouldn't feel so horrible after just a regular day of flying. But the rest?

Azrael made her careful way back to her room. There was the glass, still partly full of water. And there, next to it, was the book. She picked it up, one hand anchoring herself to the table, and bent down precariously to tuck it into her backpack.

A shout from beyond the room caught her attention. Lucifer? But why would he be out back? More importantly, why would he be shouting? Did her father stay after all?

She could not move quickly, but she put as much urgency as she could into her passage through the rooms and to the door to the deck.

She pushed the door, which was already partly open, and looked out, leaning heavily on the doorjamb. The cold roused her a little, but she was still entirely perplexed by the sight that met her: Lucifer and Josh sprawled side by side in the snow, both ruddy with cold and breathing hard.

"Are you guys... making snow angels?" she queried, her confusion obvious.

Lucifer sat up and dusted the worst of the snow out if his hair, looking over at her with some concern. "No, of course not. We were..." He fumbled for an answer, looking to Josh.

"You shouldn't be up," Josh protested, getting to his feet. "Go inside and sit down." He offered Lucifer a hand up, and this time his brother accepted.

Azrael looked between her brothers and nodded, making her way into the house.

"She didn't complain about me telling her what to do," Josh murmured, frowning.

By the time Lucifer and Josh entered, having shaken off the worst of the snow, Azrael had wrapped herself in a quilt and curled into the corner of the couch. "It's freezing out there. Sorry, I don't have coffee or anything ready..." She moved to get up, but subsided when Lucifer waved her back down.

"No worries, little sis. I come prepared." He pulled his flask out of his pocket and took a swig, then offered the flask to Josh.

The youngest of the trio took the flask and drank, brows lifting at its contents. Seeing Azrael's started expression, he said, "What? It's not like I'm not associated with alcohol, and this is much better than communion wine. Good stuff," he added to Lucifer, returning the flask.

"Only the best," Lucifer agreed. He gave Azrael a look of inquiry, extending the flask, but she shook her head.

"Thanks, but no," she said. "I don't need anything else messing with my head just now." She looked between her brothers. "Is... everything okay?"

Josh looked over to Lucifer, who took another swig from the flask and tucked it away. "By which you mean-" Here he spoke in a falsetto, affecting Azrael's accent, "How did things go with Dad?" He leveled a hard look at Azrael. "Heard you asked him to stay and talk with me. Thanks for that, _really_."

Azrael winced at the sarcasm and ducked her head. "Never mind. Sorry."

"Yes, well, I'm assuming you had a head injury when you thought _that_ was a good idea," Lucifer continued, his tone biting. "So I'll let it slide this time, but-"

"Lucifer," Josh protested. "Leave her alone."

"Don't, Josh," Azrael said quietly. "I don't want another argument." She looked up at Lucifer. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I hoped something good would come of it, but clearly I was wrong." She closed her eyes, settling a little deeper into the couch.

Lucifer considered his sister with a frown. "He said that you want to come back to LA with me."

Azrael nodded, her eyes still closed, replying tonelessly, "If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate it."

"What if I do mind?"

Azrael opened her eyes and sat up sharply, then winced, one hand lifting to her head. "What? Brother, please. Whatever it is he wants me to do, I need to be in LA."

"Right," Lucifer agreed crisply. "He wants you there to fulfill some purpose, likely something to do with me." He took out his flask and knocked back another drink. "Whatever it is, I no doubt disagree with it, and I see no need to help him make it happen."

Azrael stared at her older brother, her mind gone numb with shock. "But, Lucifer, if I don't do what he wants..." She couldn't finish, but sank back against the couch once more.

"Lucifer, it might not have anything to do with you," Josh snapped. "You're not the center of the universe, after all." Seeing a red-eye glare aimed his way, he finished, "Just... stop being cruel."

"Why?" Lucifer demanded. "I _am_ the Devil, after all."

Josh crossed to his brother, his expression gone dark. "Do you know what she's given up for you?"

"Josh, shut up," Azrael said intently.

"No, _Josh_ ," Lucifer sneered. "Tell me, what could my little sister have possibly given up for _me_."

"Josh-" Azrael urged, but her younger brother ignored her, talking over her.

"The day she showed her wings to your detective - something that worked out well for you, I might add - Michael was going to take her back to the Silver City," Josh said, holding Lucifer's gaze as he spoke. "She said _no_ , because she wanted to make sure you knew what had happened. She didn't want you to be caught unawares."

Lucifer's jaw worked for a moment, and then he brushed past Josh to sit next to Azrael on the couch. She seemed particularly small, he noticed. "Is that really what happened?" he asked quietly. Azrael looked away, and Lucifer protested, "I never asked you to do that - never would have asked that of you."

"I know you wouldn't," Azrael replied, her voice barely audible.

"I could have handled the situation," Lucifer said.

Azrael's voice didn't change. "I know you could have. I just... didn't want to disappear without you knowing what happened. It didn't seem right."

Lucifer didn't speak, keeping silent until Azrael finally turned to look at him. "Thank you, little sister," he said, his voice rich with sincerity, his expression stunned. "If you'd like to come back with me to LA, you are more than welcome to do so."

Azrael exhaled a shaky breath and nodded. She hesitated for a moment and then all but launched herself at Lucifer. He wondered briefly if the Detective's offspring had been giving her lessons, but then decided that he didn't care, hugging his sister close.


	37. Chapter 37

**Author's note: Less editing than usual on this one, as I wanted to get it out before the finale tonight. I'm assuming I will need recovery time afterward! Good luck to everyone watching.**

* * *

Lucifer sighed in relief as he came in from the balcony. Home. While he hadn't been thrilled with taking the quicker way home with Josh, it was certainly better than having to make the return trip the mortal way, and it would be easier on Azrael, too.

Crossing to the bar, he poured himself a drink and tossed it back, still turning the day over in his head. His father... no, he'd unpack that later, and send Linda hazard pay. But Azrael... he still couldn't believe that she'd given up her chance to go home, and for him. He shouldn't have agreed to let her come back with him. Their father was up to something, Lucifer just knew it. Azrael was caught up in it - not her fault, obviously, and he wasn't blaming her for it - but he didn't want any part in whatever his father was planning.

He poured another drink and was considering it when his phone rang. It had survived the snow. Impressive. Lucifer pulled out the phone, all set to refuse the call, then saw the name on the display: TheDetective.

"Yes, Detective?" he greeted, polishing off his second drink and pondering a third.

"Hey," Chloe replied. "I know you said you'd call, but it's been a while, and I got worried that you'd ended up in a ditch." Somewhat muted, he heard her offspring calling, "Lucifer, did you find Rae?" and Chloe hushing her, with a murmur about not yelling in the car. "You're on speaker, by the way. Linda's here, too."

Lucifer downed another drink, almost as if it were medicine. "Hello, ladies. Yes, well, you'll be happy to learn that I'm back home in a reasonable climate and certainly not in a ditch. I did find Rae, and - Beatrice, stop, your mother can't possibly concentrate on driving with you making that noise." For, at the news that her friend had been found, Trixie had let out a gleeful whoop.

"Sorry," came the little girl's response, though she didn't sound particularly repentant.

"Is she all right?" Linda asked, though Lucifer could also hear a conversation between Chloe and her daughter going on in the background. "And how did you get back so quickly?"

Lucifer pondered the questions. Best not to give a full answer to the first question with the child listening. "I'm not entirely sure how she is, actually. Today has been... rather complicated, and I didn't really ask. As for how I got back, I got a lift from my brother. He's bringing Rae here, now."

"Mommy, just ask him, please?" That, of course, was from the offspring.

"Ask me what?" Lucifer queried. He considered the bottle. There really wasn't enough alcohol in the world for today. Surely he had something stronger set aside for such an occasion.

There was a pause from the other end of the line, and a sigh that Lucifer found quite familiar, usually because he was the one inspiring such sounds from the detective. "I hate to ask this, since I know you just got back, but could we swing by for a few minutes so Trixie can say hi to Rae? We're actually pretty close."

Lucifer glanced down at the wreck of his suit. That wouldn't do at all. He strode into his room and put his phone on speaker, the better to be heard while he changed. In deference to the child, he didn't even tell Chloe what she was missing. And she said he had no self-control! "Of course you can," he replied. "I'm sure she'll be happy to see you."

"Thank you, Lucifer," Trixie called.

"Yes, thanks," Chloe echoed. "See you soon."

Straightening his cuffs, Lucifer moved back to the living room just in time to see Josh and Azrael arrive. "A snowball right in the mouth," his brother was saying. "You should have seen the look on his face."

Lucifer strode forward, a protest on his lips, but then saw the - it had to be said - death-grip Azrael had on Josh, the tense lines of her face. Ah, distraction. "Now, be fair," he countered, with a grin. "I'm sure I got snow up your nose."

Josh nodded amiably, setting Azrael down as if she were made of spun glass, then tucking the cat backpack at her feet. "Oh, you did," he agreed.

Lucifer turned to look at Azrael, even as he kept up the casual banter with Josh. She clung to the back of a chair, her gaze turned inward. Gradually, though, she began to relax, and Lucifer cast a look of inquiry at Josh, who grimaced and shook his head.

The elevator chimed, then, and Trixie emerged as soon as she could squeeze through the doors. "Rae!" she squealed, running hell-for-leather toward her friend.

Lucifer realized that this could not possibly end well, as Azrael looked like a stiff wind would knock her over, let alone a small, fast-moving girl. He caught Trixie as she passed and swung the girl into his arms.

There was a moment of shocked silence from all in the room. Chloe, following her daughter, stopped dead and stared at Lucifer.

Trixie regarded him with some confusion. "Now you _like_ hugs?" she queried.

"No," Lucifer replied promptly. "Well, some hugs," he amended, with a brow-waggle at Chloe. " _Special_ hugs." He put down the little girl, giving her an awkward pat on the head. "Go gently," he urged, with a nod toward his exasperated sister. "She's feeling a little unwell. Nothing contagious," he added to Chloe. "I'll explain later. Where's Doctor Linda?"

"A patient called," Chloe explained. "She'll be right up."

Azrael eased into the nearby chair, which was more than large enough for enough for both girls. Trixie quickly followed and while her hug could not exactly be described as gentle, Azrael clearly did not mind.

"I missed you," Trixie proclaimed. "Where were you?" Despite her words, she all but radiated happiness; smiling in delight, she took possession of Azrael's hand, as if to assure herself of her friend's continued presence.

Azrael, while she didn't show Trixie's exuberance, reflected quiet contentment. She slid down a little in the chair and rested her head lightly against Trixie's shoulder. "I've got a house in the mountains, near the East Coast," she replied lightly.

"You've got a _house_?" Trixie echoed, impressed, as Chloe moved to sit on the nearby couch, her lips curving at the sight of the girls.

"About that," Lucifer put in, brows lifting in inquiry. "Why do you have a house?"

Azrael shrugged, looking across the room to where Lucifer stood near his piano. "It's one of my investments. Uri said I'd need it. It was a long time ago," she added, before he could ask. "So he couldn't be specific about why. Mostly I've been renting it, though I cleared the schedule when I got here."

Josh came around to sit on the opposite side of the couch from Chloe. "I can go back and take care of the rental car," he told Lucifer, nodding at his brother's murmur of acknowledgement. "Need anything done in the house, Rae?"

Azrael shook her head. "I can email my property manager tonight, but thanks." Seeing Chloe shake her head at the words, Azrael smiled, but didn't inform the detective, again, that she wasn't a child. Instead, she said, "Chloe, Trixie, this is our brother -"

"Josh," Josh supplied, with a warning look to his sister.

Chloe smiled, offering a hand, which Josh shook. "Nice to meet you," she said, the sentiment echoed by Trixie.

"That's what I was going to say." Azrael smiled sweetly at Josh, adding to Chloe, "He loves the little children."

Josh sighed. "Rae, come on."

"All the children of the world," Azrael added, a glint of mirth lighting her eyes.

"Okay, seriously," Josh protested. "You have to knock it off. The next bit, while true, gets racially insensitive, and I don't want-"

Lucifer got into the act and sat down at the piano to play a few bars of Depeche Mode's *Personal Jesus*, eliciting a chuckle from Azrael and a put-upon sigh from Josh.

Chloe turned her gaze on Josh. She studied him a long moment, then nodded. "Okay, then. Wow," she added, smiling. "They're really not subtle, are they?"

Josh laughed, shaking his head. "No, they aren't."

"Big sisters have to tease," Azrael observed, amused. "We don't have to be subtle about it."

"You're his _big_ sister?" Trixie asked Azrael, clearly still wrapping her head around everything. She sent a dubious look at Josh; he smiled at her.

Azrael nodded. "Sure am, even though I don't look like it right now."

"I'm going to head out," Josh said, getting to his feet. He paused by Lucifer, asking, "Okay with you if I come by on occasion?" He tipped his head toward Azrael, his meaning clear.

Lucifer glanced at his sister, who was speaking quietly with Trixie, and nodded. "I'll keep an eye on her."

Josh smiled, gripping Lucifer's shoulder, then turned back toward the couch. "Nice to meet you ladies," he said pleasantly. "I hope to see you again." He bent down to hug Azrael, murmuring something into her ear. She clung to him for a moment with the arm Trixie had not claimed, nodding, and then settled back against Trixie's shoulder. Josh smiled at the pair, then stepped out to the balcony and disappeared with a whoosh of air.

"That," Trixie said with conviction, "Was so cool."

Lucifer muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _show-off_ , but didn't comment further.

The elevator chimed, and Linda entered, murmuring an apology. "She's not quite my neediest client," she added, "but she comes close."

Chloe smiled. "Yeah, so you just missed Jesus."

Linda paused. "Seriously?"

Lucifer, with a wry smile, played the first four chords of the Hallelujah Chorus.

Azrael offered, "You can call him Josh."

Linda took a deep breath. "My life is... so very strange." She shook her head and moved to join Chloe on the couch, adding, "Welcome back, Rae."

"Thank you," Azrael replied. She flicked a glance skyward before adding, "I didn't realize you were going to be here. Could I borrow you for a minute?"

Linda tipped her head to one side in consideration and then nodded, standing once more. "Of course."

Azrael got carefully to her feet, then looked down at her hand, which Trixie still gripped. "I'll be right back," she promised, smiling.

Trixie chewed on her upper lip and then nodded, releasing Azrael. "You better be," she replied seriously.

Azrael glanced to the balcony, then turned toward the kitchen instead, leading the way. Linda followed, letting the swinging door close behind her.

Azrael took a water from the refrigerator and held up a second bottle, with a look of inquiry. At Linda's negative murmur, she eased into a seat, opening her water bottle and taking a long drink. "Trixie's a little clingy," she observed, looking toward the living room with a faint frown.

"She was worried about you," Linda offered, seating herself opposite Azrael. "Chloe said she was pretty upset."

Her frown deepening in concern, Azrael said, "I didn't... I mean, I wasn't gone that long."

"Not for you, no," Linda agreed, with a small smile. "But when you're Trixie's age and missing a friend, a week can feel like... well, an eternity." Giving Azrael a long, level look, she added, "Trixie wasn't the only worried one, you know. Ella's been very concerned. We all have, really."

Azrael ducked her head, though not before the therapist caught her disbelieving look. "Linda-" she began,then faltered, shaking her head.

"People care about you, Rae," Linda said gently. "If you feel the need to... take some time for yourself, maybe let someone know, next time."

"If I can," Azrael agreed softly. "I'm sorry, Linda, but it may not be up to me. When... when I go home, it might be quick. I'll do my best, but I might not have a choice." She exhaled a soft sigh, letting her head fall into her hands. "I can't give up that chance," she admitted, adding silently, _Not again._

Linda nodded, not that Azrael could see the gesture. "I can certainly understand that." Linda let the silence hang for a moment, knowing that the discomfort of quiet sometimes motivated speech, but Azrael held her tongue. Leaning in a little, Linda asked, "Are you feeling all right?"

"By which you mean I'm looking particularly haggard today?" Azrael lifted her head with a wry little smile. "It's been an interesting couple of days." Rubbing her forehead, she exhaled a soft sigh. "Any chance you've got some ibuprofen in your purse?"

"Actually, I think I do," Linda replied, rummaging in her bag.

Azrael took the bottle with a murmur of thanks. "If I asked Lucifer, he'd offer some oxy, and I'm just not up to explaining why that's a bad idea." She studied the bottle, then looked up with a faint smile. "Do I go by my age, or this body's?"

Linda chuckled, shaking her head. "I doubt the dosage instructions cover your particular situation, but you're close enough to go with the adult dose." Azrael nodded and downed the medicine, murmuring her thanks before handing back the bottle. Linda, her expression sympathetic, asked, "Are you okay?"

Azrael nodded, resting her chin in her cupped hand. "I will be. I took a bad fall, still pretty sore." Seeing the sharp incline of Linda's eyebrows, she added quickly, "That's not a metaphor, sorry. Actual fall: boom, splat. I'm still as much in Dad's good graces as I ever was, as far as I know."

"I heard you got your wings back," Linda said, with a relieved nod for Azrael's explanation.

Azrael nodded, with a small, distant smile. "Mazikeen said Chloe told you. How... how's Chloe doing? I mean, she's here; that's a good sign, right? Are she and Mazikeen still roommates?"

Linda studied Azrael for a moment, then nodded. "She still has her moments, but overall I think she's doing well. And, yes, she and Maze are still roommates. Why do you ask?"

Azrael exhaled a relieved sigh. "Mazikeen got the impression that Chloe was upset and wanted to stop living together, because of the whole demon thing. She was... a little upset with me, since I basically outed her to Chloe. But since they're okay, maybe I won't have to start running the next time I see Mazikeen. Which is good, because she's way faster."

Brows lifting, Linda asked, "You really think Maze would hurt you?"

Azrael nodded seriously. "Absolutely." After a beat of thoughtful consideration, she amended, "Well, probably. I mean, she had the chance to hit me and didn't take it. Though... that doesn't mean she won't take her shot the next time she sees me." She sighed, letting her forehead rest in her palm.

Linda offered gently, "I can talk to her, if you like?"

Azrael shook her head. "No, thanks. Mazikeen does what she wants."

"Why don't you ever call her Maze?" Linda queried.

Azrael lifted her head. "She's never told me I can." She rubbed her forehead, adding, "I actually called her that once, back in the day. She let me know she didn't find it at all acceptable." She slanted a look at Linda, adding, "I think she's mellowed since then, though, but I will deny ever having said so."

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "Well, she's certainly mellowed since I've known her." Azrael exhaled a quiet chuckle, and, after a moment of hesitation, Linda asked, "So Jesus was the brother who brought you and Lucifer back here?"

Azrael nodded, sliding down a little in her chair. "My own personal Jesus is actually Jesus, yes. Josh came to the house after -" Her attention focusing a little more sharply, she said, her manner gone careful, "Um, I'm not sure when Lucifer's next session is, but you should probably know that he spoke with our father."

Linda exhaled a soft, startled breath. "Oh. Oh, my."

"Yeah," Azrael agreed.

"How did it go?" the therapist queried, looking as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug. "Well, my house is still standing," she replied, clearly not joking. "He didn't give details, and I didn't ask." She folded her arm on the table and rested her chin against it, adding softly, "He wasn't happy that I asked Dad to stay and talk with him, and he almost wouldn't let me come back here."

"Because you asked your father to talk with him?"

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "No. Well, not just that, at least. I doubt he's thrilled that I did that. But mainly because he thinks that Dad sent me here to interfere in his life."

"Did he?" Linda queried, fascinated. There was a crash from the living room and then Lucifer called something reassuring, but she only sent a quick look toward the noise.

Azrael shrugged once more, glancing toward the living room and then back to Linda. "I don't know," she replied helplessly. "Dad wouldn't tell me, and I-" She straightened, then, with an exasperated noise. "I'm sorry. This isn't fair. You're not here to listen to me. I can... I don't know, make an appointment, like Dad said."

Linda rocked back in her chair. "Your... your father told you to make an appointment with me?" she repeated, stunned.

Azrael smiled faintly. "I think he said something like _Talk to Dr. Martin_ , so I guess technically I've done as he asked, but -"

"God knows who I am," Linda said, her eyes wide. "I mean, specifically."

A look of understanding crossed Azrael's face and she murmured, " _But now thus says the Lord, he who created you... 'Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine.'_ " Linda stared at her, and she added, "No pressure. Sorry. Sometimes the whole God thing kind of gets away from me. I'm more concerned with the Dad than the deity... well, most of the time."

"I can see how that could be complicated," Linda replied, though the automatic nature of her response suggested her preoccupation with her own thoughts.

Azrael got to her feet and got another bottle of water, putting it in front of the therapist. When Linda peered at her in confusion, she asked, "Would you rather have alcohol? I'm sure Lucifer has some stashed somewhere."

Linda shook her head. "No. Thank you. I just need a minute." She did open the water, though, and drained about half of it.

Azrael nodded and got to her feet. "At least your life isn't boring," she offered, before slipping through the swinging door.

"No," Linda agreed softly. "It certainly isn't."

* * *

Lucifer watched Azrael and Linda leave, then crossed to sit on the couch near Chloe. "Beatrice," he said, with a too-bright smile, "I'm quite certain that my sister has paper and some sort of drawing implements in her room. It's just down the hall, there. Why don't you go and draw her a picture to welcome her home?"

After getting a nod from her mother, Trixie got to her feet and moved toward the indicated hallway. As she neared it, she turned and offered, "You can just say you want to talk about grown-up stuff. You don't have to make something up so I'll leave."

Lucifer inclined his head, respecting her honesty. "Good to know."

Trixie hesitated, then asked, "Is Rae going to be okay?"

Lucifer noted the assumption that his sister was not currently okay. "Yes," he reassured. "We'll make sure of that." Trixie nodded, then he added, "Scamper, now. We're going to talk about grown-up stuff."

Trixie grinned and continued down the hall; after a moment, a door closed softly.

"You've gotten much better at that," Chloe observed, with a smile. "Used to be, you'd throw a toy or something."

Lucifer smiled a bit. "I do pay attention on occasion."

Chloe nodded. With a glance to the kitchen, she queried, "What happened? Rae looks awful."

"According to Yeshua - Josh - she was pushing herself too hard, flying all day, trying to make her mortal body do things it's simply not capable of." Lucifer got to his feet and poured himself a drink, bringing one for Chloe as well at her affirmative nod. "To cap things off, she thought that flying in a blizzard was a good idea, and failed in such a truly spectacular way that it took our father to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. "

Chloe paused, her drink halfway to her mouth, and then put the glass on the table. "Your father," she said carefully.

Lucifer nodded, pacing behind the chairs, his strides full of caged energy. "My father," he echoed, drawing out the vowels. "Dear old Dad came slumming down here on Earth."

Chloe got to her feet and followed Lucifer, not touching him but close enough. She noted the tension in his body and asked gently, "Did you talk to him?"

Lucifer nodded. "He managed to spare me a few minutes before going back upstairs," he replied, biting each word. "Just long enough to make it extremely clear that he thought he did the right thing in sending me to Hell." He drained his drink and then, in an explosion of fury, flung the glass against the wall. Before Chloe could react, Lucifer had caught her up in his arms, twisting to place himself between her and the ricocheting glass.

"Everything's fine," Lucifer called before anyone could investigate, carefully stepping away from Chloe. Exhaling an exasperated huff, he added, more quietly, "That went better in my head. Felt good, though."

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked. She ran a hand lightly down his back, carefully brushing away glass fragments.

"Watch it," Lucifer cautioned. "There's a - yes, right there." He winced as Chloe eased out the shard of glass embedded in his triceps, adding wryly, "Damn, this is not a good day for my suits."

Shaking her head, Chloe instructed, "Take off the jacket so I can see how bad it is."

"Bossy," Lucifer observed, a note of lascivious approval in his tone. "Really, if you wanted me out of my clothes, Detective, you just had to ask."

Leveling a look at him that mingled annoyance and concern, Chloe pointed out, "I did ask, just now."

Lucifer grinned broadly as he pulled off the jacket. "So you did. I knew you'd come around one of these days. Persistence wins out in the end!"

"Knock it off," Chloe chided, though without much heat. Seeing the blossom of blood on Lucifer's crisp, white shirt, she sighed. "Well, it doesn't look that bad. Do you have a first aid kit?"

Lucifer shook his head. "In general, I don't need them," he reminded her.

Chloe grabbed her purse. "Well, then, you're stuck with whatever Band-Aids Trixie put in mine. Come on, shirt off. We can get the glass when we're done."

Lucifer shrugged agreeably and removed his shirt, draping it next to his jacket on the back of the chair.

Naturally, that was the moment Azrael returned from the kitchen.

"Trixie's in your room," Chloe said, looking up from her bag. "Can you keep her there till we clean up out here? I wouldn't want her to walk in on this."

"Wow, okay," Azrael replied, looking between the pair. She crossed the room, missing both Chloe's puzzled look and Lucifer's profoundly amused one. "Uh, have fun. But please keep it down? I really don't want to have to explain what you're doing."

"Wait, what?" Chloe queried, but Azrael was already gone. She turned back to Lucifer, puzzled.

"She thinks we're going to have sex," Lucifer informed her brightly.

Chloe just shook her head. "Of course she does," she said, sighing. Pulling the box of Band-Aids from her bag, along with a packet of antibiotic wipes, she said, "Power Puff Girls it is."

"But now that we know that Beatrice is going to be occupied..."

Chloe pushed back the thought that _the Devil_ was hitting on her - again - and turned a level look upon him. "No, Lucifer."

* * *

Azrael stepped into her room, smiling as Trixie looked up from the picture she was drawing. "Hi, Trixie." She crossed to sit on the edge of her bed, adding, "Your mom said you should stay here, I guess until she comes to get you. They're doing, uh, grown-up stuff."

"I know," Trixie replied agreeably, still coloring. "Lucifer told me."

That gave Azrael a moment's pause. "Wow, really? Huh. Well." She shook her head, adding, "I'm glad you found the coloring stuff. I actually got it because of you."

Trixie looked over with a smile. "Wanna see my picture? It's almost done."

Azrael nodded, with a smile. She took a deep breath and then pushed herself to a standing position. She moved to stand next to Trixie, one arm bracing on her desk. The picture was obviously herself and Trixie; she had her wings out and they were flying over a beach. Trixie paused in shading the last of the sand and looked up rather hopefully. "I'll bet flying is really fun." To her credit, she seemed to be making an honest statement, rather than angling for a flight.

"It is," Azrael agreed, smiling. "Well, most of the time." She looked down at the drawing, watching as Trixie finished the drawing and then smiling as the girl offered it to her. She moved to sit on the bed once more, studying the drawing. "I wish we could do this," she said. "But I don't know if I'm strong enough, and I wouldn't want to risk dropping you." A shudder passed through her at the thought, and Trixie got up to sit next to her.

"It's okay, " Trixie replied, leaning lightly against her friend. "But... maybe when you feel better?"

Azrael shook her head ruefully. "Seriously, do I look that bad?"

Trixie nodded. "Kind of," she admitted. "Sorry."

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Don't worry about it. It's good to know. But even when I feel better, I'm only as strong as this body. I mean, I could probably hold you for a few minutes, but not long enough for something like this." She nodded at the picture.

Trixie looked up at Azrael in confusion. "But you're an angel. Can't you do... I don't know, everything?"

Azrael shook her head. "It's sort of complicated." Trixie didn't say anything, but just looked expectantly at her friend. Azrael smiled. "Okay, the short version is that my dad wants me to do something, and to do this thing, I have to be a regular person." A pause. "I think."

Trixie considered this. "A regular person, but with wings?" Azrael nodded, and Trixie asked, "What does your dad want you to do?"

Azrael let herself flop backward onto the bed, groaning softly. "I wish I knew."

"But," Trixie protested, peering down at her "How can you do it if you don't know what it is?"

Azrael looked up, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. But I will." She hesitated a moment and then shook her head, not yet willing to explain to Trixie what would happen when she had competed her task.

Trixie looked down at the picture for a moment, then asked, "Your dad... Mommy and Dr. Linda were talking about him. They said that he's God."

Azrael nodded, albeit a bit warily. Really not wanting to get into religion, she said only, "Weird, right?"

Trixie seemed to take it in stride. "Your mom is weird, too. She said I'm a bug."

Azrael sat up too suddenly, if the tightening about her eyes was any indication. "When did you speak with my mother?"

"Before," Trixie replied vaguely, adding, "I went to see if she knew where you were. She didn't."

Azrael imagined the conversation between Trixie and her mother and found herself smiling. Seeing Trixie's gaze on her, though, she sobered. "Hey, Linda said you were worried about me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to be upset."

"That's okay," Trixie replied, unintentionally twisting the knife a little as she added, "You're back now. Can you come over after school tomorrow?" She considered Azrael, then amended, "Or maybe the next day."

"Maybe the next day," Azrael agreed. "If it's okay with your mom."

Trixie looked rather pleased at the prospect. She inhaled to say something, then hesitated and flicked a glance at Azrael before looking away.

"What?" Azrael prompted. When Trixie still didn't speak, Azrael added, "It's okay, really."

Trixie looked up at her friend and asked hopefully, "Can I see your wings?"

"Is that all?" Relieved, Azrael got to her feet and took a few steps back, then unfurled her wings. Trixie watched from her seat on the bed, her face a study in awe and delight. The size of the room meant that Azrael's wings were quite close, and Trixie's hand twitched upward before the girl stilled the motion, looking at her friend.

"Go ahead," Azrael said, her lips curving. "But checking first is always a good thing."

Permission granted, Trixie ran one finger carefully over the curve of Azrael's wing. "It's so soft," she breathed. Emboldened, she brushed her whole hand along the feathers, her face alight.

Azrael was about to speak when a knock sounded on the door, followed by Chloe calling, "Hello?"

Azrael twitched her wings reflexively and Trixie laughed in delight. "Come in," Azrael called, resting one hand on her bed. When Chloe entered, she said, brows lifting, "That was really fast. Is everything okay?"

Chloe stared, though whether it was because of the wings or Azrael's words wasn't apparent until she spoke. "We didn't - we - Lucifer broke a glass. I just wanted to make sure it was cleaned up before Trixie came out."

Azrael slanted a glance at Trixie, trying to figure out how to ask Chloe why breaking a glass involved partial nudity on her brother's part. Then she realized that, really, Lucifer didn't exactly need reasons for nudity. "Okay, then." She perched on the edge of the bed, her wing shifting to curl behind Trixie, much to the girl's delight.

Chloe considered the picture: her smiling daughter surrounded by Azrael's wings. She still wasn't entirely sure what to make of... well, any of it, really, but the friendship in particular. But she couldn't object to something that made her little girl so happy.

"Mommy, Rae's wings are so soft," Trixie informed her. "It's like petting cotton candy, or clouds."

"Clouds are kind of damp, actually," Azrael murmured, and Trixie grinned.

"Rae's going to come over after school the day after tomorrow," the little girl added. At a cough from Azrael, she amended, "If it's okay."

Chloe forced herself to look away from the wings and back to the girls, trying to ignore Azrael's knowing look. "What? Oh, that's fine. But we need to get going, now, Monkey. Dr. Linda's waiting."

Trixie got up reluctantly, and turned to claim a hug from Azrael. "See you soon, Rae!"

Azrael nodded, tucking away her wings as she hugged the smaller girl close. To Chloe, she added, "Can you let my brother know I'm going to turn in?"

Chloe nodded and, somewhat to Azrael's surprise, leaned in to hug her as well. "He's glad you're back," the detective murmured, before ushering Trixie out and closing the door.

Azrael stretched out on her bed, staring at the ceiling but not seeing it. "What am I doing?" she breathed.


	38. Chapter 38

**Author's note: Lyrics from Great is Thy Faithfulness by Thomas Chisholm and Drops of Jupiter by Train.**

* * *

Josh absently tossed the car keys into the air, catching them as he stepped through the automatic door into the tiny airport terminal. Of course, there was someone already being helped at the rental car desk, but Josh waited patiently enough, idly whistling _Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus_ as he stood.

He was still whistling as he reached the front of the line, though he stopped and grinned at the attendant's raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Bit prideful, isn't it, son?" He was an older man, with salt and pepper hair and a blue sweater; his faded name tag said Roy, but of course that wasn't his name.

"It's catchy." At the older man's raised eyebrow, Josh grinned and inclined his head in acknowledgement, whistling a few bars of _How Great Thou Art_ instead. He stopped upon catching the level look from the man behind the counter and instead put the rental car's keys on the counter. "You gave him a Rogue? Really? Wasn't that a little on the nose?"

His father shrugged, flipping through the stack of paperwork to find Lucifer's rental agreement. "Well, the only other option that came close was a Scion, and that seemed like kind of a mixed message. Did you fill up the tank?"

"You don't have to ask." Josh leaned against the counter, adding, "They got back to LA all right. Lucifer is still pissed off at you, no surprise there." Seeing his father's steady regard, he sighed. "She'll do what you want. You know she will."

"I know she will." He found the right paperwork, attached the keys, and tossed the bundle into the bin. "See you at home, son."

Josh nodded and turned to leave, lifting his voice in song as he did.

 _Great is Thy faithfulness, O God my Father;_  
 _There is no shadow of turning with Thee;_  
 _Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not..._

His father looked after Josh as the doors closed behind him, drowning the final line of the verse. "And he said his siblings weren't subtle..."

* * *

Some time later, Azrael had managed a shower, with a murmured prayer of thanks for her shower's truly marvelous water pressure, and several hours of deep sleep. She woke feeling... not normal, or whatever passed for her normal these days, but at least better. Reaching for her phone, ready to face it at last, she realized that it wasn't in its usual spot and had to think back to the last time she'd seen it: the evening of the play, when she'd turned it off and stashed it in her backpack.

She distinctly remembered Josh bringing the backpack, which meant it was probably in the living room. Getting to her feet, she pulled on her robe and padded into the hallway, pausing when she heard the music. Leaning against the wall, she watched her brother play. The room itself was dim, only the streaming moonlight providing any illumination. Lucifer's hands moved deftly across the keys, his movements strong and sure. After a moment, he began to sing.

 _But tell me, did you sail across the sun?_  
 _Did you make it to the Milky Way_  
 _To see the lights all faded_  
 _And that Heaven is overrated?_

 _Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star?_  
 _One without a permanent scar_  
 _And did you miss me_  
 _While you were looking for yourself out there?_

She must have made a noise, as he stopped playing and turned to face her, his expression reflective. "Sorry, did I wake you?"

Azrael shook her head. "I've been sleeping for most of the day," she replied. "This body decided it was time to get up. Didn't mean to interrupt you; I just came out for my bag." Scanning the room, she spotted it, and crossed to retrieve it.

Lucifer nodded and started to play once more, a slower, more reflective version of the song he'd been singing.

Azrael watched him, enjoying the play of light and shadows as his fingers moved on the keys. Standing next to the piano, she rested a hand lightly on its side, feeling the vibrations of the song.

Lucifer looked up, though his hands continued their motion. "You're looking better," he offered. "Less likely to fall over at a moment's notice."

"I'll give you at least two moments," Azrael quipped. "Sleep and a shower work wonders, I have to say."

"If that shower could talk..." Lucifer mused, grinning at his sister's noise of disgust and playing a few chords that would not be out of place in a porno.

Azrael shook her head. "You can even make the piano sound dirty," she observed, adding quickly, "And no stories about sex on the piano, please."

Chuckling, Lucifer waggled his brows, his manner implying that there certainly were such stories.

"Ew," Azrael murmured, edging away from the piano. She eyed it, clearly considering the logistics, and then shook her head. After a moment she said, "I have a question."

"Well," Lucifer replied, warming to his subject. "That last time, the trick of it was for him to -"

"Not that question!" Azrael interrupted urgently. When Lucifer subsided, amused, and began noodling on the piano, she continued hesitantly, "How did you find me? Did Raf tell you where I went?"

Shaking his head, Lucifer replied, "Actually, Maze provided the solution to that little dilemma." Seeing Azrael's puzzlement, he explained, "She gave me your feather and I used it to track you."

"But it was on the roof." Azrael's expression grew thoughtful. "I closed my eyes so she could hit me," she mused. "Maybe she got it then." She looked back at Lucifer to find him staring at her.

"You did what?" Lucifer demanded, torn between surprise and amusement. "I mean, taking a swan dive off a mountain, that's one thing, but closing your eyes to _let Maze hit you_? Do you actually have a death wish?"

"Swan dive isn't accurate, "Azrael observed, wrinkling her nose as she added, "I swear, between you and Josh, the death jokes are getting old. Would you believe he actually got Death By Chocolate ice cream for the house?"

Lucifer shook his head recognizing Azrael's attempt at distraction from his own expertise at that particular coping mechanism. His gaze sharpening a little, he prompted, "About that swan dive, though..." Seeing his sister's expression tighten, he still continued, needling lightly, "Looking for a loophole, were you?"

" _No_." She took a breath. "Maybe. I don't know." Another breath. "It wasn't so much a conscious decision as an action fueled by panic. I wasn't in the best place." Considering her own words, she wasn't sure if she meant the ledge or how she'd been thinking at the time; probably both, if she was honest with herself.

Nodding, Lucifer replied, "I can understand that."

"No, you can't." It was a flat refusal, untempered by any of Azrael's usual niceties. Catching the sharp lift of her brother's eyebrows, she repeated, a defensive note coloring her words, "Well, you can't. Mortal body, here."

Lucifer considered the stubborn set to his sister's jaw, then shook his head, opting for a subject change. "But, really, with Maze? That wasn't so bright, little sister. You should have known better. She could have done you serious harm, what with your _mortal body here._ "

Azrael made a wry face at her brother's teasing mimicry, then shrugged, moving to perch on the back of the couch. "I'd already talked her down a little, and she said she wouldn't use her knives. She had a good point, and I thought it'd be better to let her do it than let her get more angry. Funny how it all worked out; she didn't hit me, though I'm not sure why."

"That is strange," Lucifer agreed. "Well, don't lose hope," he added cheerfully. "She may still pop you a good one. I wouldn't turn your back on her if I were you."

Azrael sighed, muttering, "Gee, thanks." Turning her narrowed gaze on her brother, she added, "Where's my feather, by the way?"

"Oh, I still have it," Lucifer replied airily.

Azrael regarded Lucifer, waiting. When he didn't reply, she asked, too patiently, "Can I have it back?"

Lucifer shook his head. "No, I don't think so." At Azrael's exasperated look, he added, "Well, you do tend to take off. It could come in handy to have a way to find you. Plus, should dear old Dad randomly haul you back upstairs, I'd have a way to tell."

Azrael visibly considered arguing, then shrugged. "Fair enough, as long as you keep track of it. I'd hate to have it fall into the wrong hands."

Lucifer nodded, absently picking out a tune as he spoke. "Well, of course. Not that there are all that many who could do much with it, but I'll be careful."

"Thanks." Azrael didn't speak for long enough that Lucifer noticed her silence. Looking over, his hands still moving on the keys, he saw her expression: tense and a little unhappy. She was overthinking things again. Finally, she spoke. "I'm sorry."

Lucifer stopped playing. "Beg pardon?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated. "I shouldn't have asked Dad to stay. I... I should have known how it would go."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed, his tone just a little too light for his easy manner to be truly genuine. "You should have. I suppose he patted you on the head and you rolled over for him."

Azrael slipped down from her seat and stepped around the piano so that she was standing next to her brother. With him seated and her standing, they were nearly of a height, though she didn't feel any taller. Her jaw worked for a moment, and then she nodded. "Basically, yes," she admitted. "What did you expect, brother? What, did you think I'd stand up to him? Because that's worked out so well in the past? But he... he wasn't all bad." Seeing Lucifer's look of denial, she glanced away, but continued, "He had other reasons for sending me here. Not just the task."

"Really," Lucifer drawled sardonically, his disbelief obvious. "What reasons? Do tell."

Azrael flushed, her mouth tightening, but persisted, "He thought I should have a break from ferrying the souls of the dead and... and hearing the welcome speech, after Uri." Lucifer scoffed at that, but Azrael added quietly, "He said he sent me to you because he knew you'd lift my spirits, and he was right." She hesitated, then added, her tone wry, "I mean, not at this _precise_ moment, but in general, you do."

Lucifer didn't respond. Azrael, watching him out of the corner of her eye, held her breath, hoping that her brother would accept what she, at least, saw as paternal praise; she could tell the exact moment when he rejected her words. His expression shuttered, and he closed his eyes. "Right," he said, his voice quiet and full of regret. "You drank the Kool-aid. Got it."

"Luci, no," Azrael protested. She reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, pulling back at the last moment. He wouldn't want her to touch him just now, she was sure. "I don't have any illusions about our father. I know he's manipulating me into doing... something." She exhaled in frustration. "Something," she repeated. "I don't know what, I swear."

Lucifer shook his head, opening his eyes once more and looking at her. She managed - just - not to turn away from the plea in his eyes. "He told you what you wanted to hear, and you believed him. Azrael, he's playing you, just like he always does."

Azrael took a deep breath. "I know he's using me. I know I'm just another one of his tools, like all his children - well, except you. But I don't have a choice. Don't you see that?"

Lucifer shook his head. "You could..."

Azrael moved to sit next to him on the piano bench, a scant inch of space between them, but it may as well have been a mile. When he didn't finish his words, she asked softly, "What? I could stay here? Live out my life in this mortal body, subject to all the dangers they face?" Gesturing at herself with a shake of her head, she added, "He told me that all this is temporary, but I know that's only if I complete my task."

Lucifer nodded, not looking at her. "And if he's using you as a means to send me back to Hell?"

That gave Azrael a moment's pause. "I don't think that's it." When Lucifer turned away, getting to his feet with a wordless noise of disbelief, she stood as well. "Brother, how long ago did Amenadiel come here to ask you to return to Hell? He seems like the logical choice for that particular chore, not me, and yet here you are."

Shaking his head, Lucifer observed, "But Dad's a sneaky, manipulative bastard. We really have no idea what he's planning."

Azrael nodded thoughtfully, getting up from the piano bench and moving to a chair. "True," she acknowledged. "But when Michael came to take me home, it was right after Chloe and Trixie had seen my wings. I mean, that must have been what he wanted me to do, or at least part of it. Chloe knows about you, now, and that seems to be a good thing, right?" Lucifer nodded in rather suspicious acknowledgement, and Azrael continued, "So Dad sort of did you a favor."

She knew as soon as she said it that she'd made a mistake. Lucifer's expression darkened. "A favor," he repeated. "I don't need his bloody favors."

"Okay," Azrael backpedaled. "You don't, I agree. Maybe it's nothing to do with you." Hearing Lucifer's derisive snort, she grimaced. "Look, I'll ask Josh, okay? I'll see if he has any idea."

"He won't tell you," Lucifer replied flatly.

Azrael exhaled a soft exasperated noise. "What do you want me to say, brother? I'm trying."

Her brother didn't respond, instead crossing back to the piano.

"This is your home, Lucifer," Azrael said, bowing her head. "I can see why you like it here. But even if I had my body, my powers... this isn't home for me. I wish it could be. Then all this would be a lot easier. But it's not."

Lucifer nodded once more. "I understand," he said, sounding pained. "You'll do what he wants, and then you'll leave."

She couldn't deny it. "I'm sorry." She risked a glance at him, then added, "If you really don't want me to stay here, I understand."

Lucifer looked over, surprised. "Where would you go?"

"I'd figure it out."

Lucifer sighed, moving to pour himself a drink. "Whether you're here or not, you're still going to do whatever it is?"

Azrael nodded mutely.

"Then you may as well stay," Lucifer concluded gracelessly.

Azrael nodded once more and got to her feet. "If you change your mind..."

Lucifer looked over with a bleak smile. "Oh, you'll know."

Azrael paused in the hallway and turned back to her brother. "If I really thought it meant you going back to Hell," she said, her voice serious, "Then I wouldn't do it. I'd leave, go back to my house or... I don't know, anywhere else. I wouldn't do that to you." She hesitated a moment, then added, "And I did miss you, while I was gone."

As Azrael closed her door behind her, she heard a sharp, discordant sound, as if someone had smashed a hand onto a piano keyboard. She sighed and pulled out her phone. As she waited for it to start up, she curled up on the bed, cocooning herself in her wings. The phone's screen lit and the notifications began to scroll. As expected, she had increasingly worried messages from Trixie on every possible platform. What surprised her, though, were the others.

The day after the play, Ella had texted several different movie titles and an enthusiastic list of emoji that Azrael assumed was an invitation, and Chloe had sent a message asking if everything was okay, mentioning that Trixie was expecting her. Scrolling further, she saw inquiries from several people at St. Brennan's, including both Mary Grace and Father Joe. Even Jack - how had he gotten her number? - had texted an apology for what happened after the play, and a plea for her to come back to church. Poor kid; he really had no idea. There were further messages from Chloe and Ella, an offer to talk from Linda, and even a tentative query from Trixie's father.

It wasn't just the humans in her life who had left messages. Amenadiel had texted something that, while innocuous, still somehow managed to sound ominous. Her mother of all people had sent _It's your mother. Your little bug was here looking for you. Are you all right?_ Azrael wasn't entirely sure that her mother grasped the concept that the phone actually let her know who sent texts. She had to smile at the attempt, though.

Perhaps most concerning was the message from Maze: _Get your ass back here. You made the little human cry._ Yeah, that didn't bode well.

Still, as Azrael scrolled through the messages once more, she felt a warm sensation in her chest, a pricking at her eyes. These humans, they cared about her. They cared about - she allowed herself to think it, with the possibility now on the table once more - the Angel of Death. More overwhelming was the thought that she'd grown to care for them, too. She'd spent millenia on humanity's periphery, snatching glimpses of their lives as she coasted through, but all this had happened in only a few short weeks, a blink of an eye.

Azrael took a deep breath, then started replying to the texts. She had amends to make.


	39. Chapter 39

Azrael sat on the bench outside Beelzebean, her hands lightly clasped, though she kept her eyes open. That feeling she'd had since she left the penthouse, that creepy, being-watched feeling that prickled the space between her shoulder blades, had not gone away and, quite frankly, she wanted to put a wall between herself and whatever was causing it. _Come on, come on._ After a moment, she felt a hand on her shoulder and she smiled up at Josh, tugging her bag onto her shoulder.

"Want to get a coffee?" she queried, getting to her feet and edging toward the building behind her.

Her brother regarded her in some puzzlement. "You called me down here for coffee?" He considered that, then shrugged agreeably. "Okay, but you're buying."

Azrael smiled a little. "What, did I interrupted your halo-polishing?" She smiled as Josh held the door for her. The creepy feeling faded a little as the door closed behind her, but still nagged at her. She looked back outside, but didn't see anything. Maybe it was nothing. _Paranoid_.

"Oh, the snark is strong," Josh teased. "There's Lucifer's influence, I see."

"Hey," Azrael protested as she queued up. "I'll have you know I was snarky long before I came here."

Josh nodded, agreeing, "That's very true, but you and Lucifer go way back, too."

"Not everything is his fault, Josh," Azrael said pointedly, before turning to the barista and requesting, "Please give me whatever has the most caffeine in the biggest possible size." Seeing the barista glance to Josh, she protested, "You don't need to check with my brother."

"Maybe she just wants to know what I want," Josh suggested mildly, adding, "Archangel Dreams tea, please. Large." Seeing Azrael's raised eyebrow, he added innocently, "I hear it's heavenly."

Azrael rested her bag on the counter, the better to dig through it for her cash. The barista gave her the total and took their names, adding, "I love your bag."

Azrael beamed, giving the bag a fond pat. It was dark gray and emblazoned with a My Little Pony: white with a black mane and tail, and a black skull in place of the usual cutie mark. "Thanks," Azrael replied brightly as she handed over the cash. "I got it on Etsy." She tucked a bill in the tip jar and headed for a four-top near the window. She glanced at the street, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

Josh followed, eyeing the bag with interest. "Pale horse, huh? Cute."

Azrael smiled. "Michael made fun of me with this franchise. I figured it's more fun to own it."

"Best not to let him get under your skin," Josh agreed. "It's so much more entertaining that way." He studied Azrael, then said, "You look a lot better. More centered."

Azrael looked up with a smile as their drinks were delivered - hers was labeled Ray - and then nodded at Josh. "I feel better. Sleeping most of yesterday helped a lot." She sipped her drink before saying plainly, "I don't know how long I'm going to be here, but now I know Dad doesn't mean it to be permanent, as long as I toe the line. Just knowing that... it helps."

"Is it so bad here?" Josh queried. He sampled his own beverage, and his brows lifted. "Nice."

"No," Azrael replied, though she sounded a little subdued. "Actually, it's... I don't know." She frowned a little, shaking her head. "Now that I'm not moping about my situation, I like it here, really; I swear, before I was one emo song away from dyeing my hair black."

Josh grinned. "You know that's not a good look for you."

Azrael nodded. "Especially not in this body," she agreed.

There were a few moments of companionable silence, then Josh suggested, "Not that this isn't pleasant and all, sis..."

"...but you know I didn't just call you down here for coffee - or, um, Archangel Dreams. Right." Azrael took another swallow of her drink and set the cup aside. "Why did Dad send me here?"

His expression pained, Josh replied, "Even if I had all the answers - which I don't - you know I can't tell you that."

Azrael took a little time to gather her next words: a reasoned argument, rather than the whining protest of the child she appeared to be. "I don't know that, Josh. I know he won't tell me _what_ he wants me to do, and I accept that. But can't you give me a little hint to his motivation? I mean, that whole thing with Trixie and Chloe would have been a lot less nerve-wracking if I'd known that there weren't going to be reprisals from upstairs."

Josh leaned back in his seat. "There's a pet store across the street," he observed, looking out the window. "Want to go look at puppies after we're done here?"

Azrael looked at her brother as if he'd grown a second head. "What are you talking about?"

"Puppies," Josh replied, with a gesture toward the window and, presumably, the store beyond. "Baby dogs. You'd like them."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "Of course I like puppies, but are you seriously trying to distract me with cute, small animals? I'm not really a kid; you get that, right?" Azrael pressed, a little more loudly, "I could really use some help with this. Lucifer, he's -"

"Is everything okay?"

Azrael turned and, seeing a familiar face to go with the familiar voice, smiled. "Linda. How nice to see you. Care to join us?"

The chair nearest to Linda moved closer to her, but the therapist glanced down in time to see Azrael's foot doing the shoving, rather than some weird, angelic telekinesis. There was that, at least. "For a few minutes," she agreed, taking the seat. Turning to Josh with a smile, she said, "I'm Linda, as Rae just said - Linda Martin. Nice to meet you."

Josh offered a hand. "These days, I'm going by Josh. Good to meet you as well."

Linda shook Josh's hand for just a little too long, sending a wide-eyed look to Azrael. "Josh, as in...?"

"Yeah." Azrael reached to take Linda's cup from her slackening grasp and set it on the table, her manner contrite. "Sorry. There's no gentle way to break that. But at least it's not Dad."

Linda finally retrieved her hand from Josh's, murmuring, "Oh, my God." She paused, fumbling for wirds, then added, "Sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's fine," Josh reassured. "And, well, only if you believe in the trinity. I'd rather not overstep, honestly; Dad's the one in charge. Sorry I missed you yesterday. I wanted to get the rental car back before closing."

Linda closed her eyes for a moment, murmuring, "Jesus returns rental cars." She looked over at Azrael, taking a sharp breath as the rest of Azrael's words registered. "Your father? He's not... dropping by, is he?"

"I hope not," Azrael replied bluntly, with a faint grimace. She sent a look of inquiry to Josh; he shrugged in response.

Linda finally looked at Josh, and then it was as if she couldn't look away. "Well, you're right," she said to Azrael. "He's not blond."

Josh looked a little puzzled. "Sometimes my hair lightens up a bit when I'm outside a lot - surfing, and the like - but never that much."

"Those pictures," Azrael supplied. "The ones where you're all square-jawed?"

Josh's expression cleared. "Right, those. Okay." He glanced at Linda, who was still studying him and mouthing _surfing_. "Are you all right?"

Linda took a moment, clearly pulling herself back into focus, then summoned a smile. "Yes," she replied, a little more certainty coloring her voice as Josh smiled at her, "Yes. Thank you."

Azrael shook her head, amused. "Lucifer solves crimes, I like musical theater, and Josh cheats at surfing -"

"I don't cheat," he protested, though he smiled.

Azrael ignored her brother, concluding, "We're just regular people, Linda."

"No, you're not." Linda spoke with absolute certainly.

Azrael considered that. "No, we're not," she agreed. "But we do regular people _things_." She nudged Josh and nodded to something behind Linda, eliciting a sigh from her brother.

Half-turning in her seat, Linda saw that Azrael had indicated a man waiting for a to-go order, his shirt proclaiming, _Jesus: Our Only Hope_. Turning back to see Josh's sheepish expression Linda asked candidly, "What do you think when you see something like that?"

"Well, I disagree," Josh replied with a small smile. "I mean, I'm glad to be considered _a_ hope, for those who believe, but hardly the only one. If it's all on me, well... that's a lot of pressure, right?" Still, he didn't seem at all upset, instead adding, "Humanity has provided plenty of reasons for hope all on its own. "

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I'm glad you find hope in us. Sometimes that can be hard to see." She glanced over at Azrael who was frowning as she peered out the window, and added, "But I'm interrupting..."

Azrael shook her head, refocusing on the others at her table. "No, really, you're not." At Linda's raised brow, she added, "We were talking, but... actually -" She hesitated, then said, "Without this coming off as a request for therapy when you're clearly not working..."

Linda smiled, though not without an internal sigh. "Yes?"

"Rae, she's just trying to get a coffee," Josh protested.

"You're just saying that because you know she'd pick my side," Azrael replied, with a smile.

Linda shook her head. "I wouldn't choose sides," she said firmly. Darting a glance between the siblings, she added, "Especially these sides. That seems like it could potentially have... consequences." Seeing Azrael deflate a little, she added, "But I'd be happy to listen."

Josh shook his head. "Rae, how do you think this will help?"

"Linda's helpful," Azrael replied. "She helps Lucifer."

Josh said quickly to Linda, "I never intended to imply that you don't; we all know how great you've been for him."

"That's... just a little disturbing," Linda decided. Eyes narrowing, she asked, "You don't spy on our sessions, do you?"

"I don't," Josh said quickly. "I can't speak for anybody else. Probably not, though."

Linda sighed. "Because I need another level of paranoia in my life..." She shook her head and then drew herself upward a bit, focusing. "Rae, what did you want to talk about?"

Azrael took a long drink of coffee, then got down to business. "Well, Dad sent me here to accomplish a task," she began.

Linda lifted a hand. "But you said he sent you here because you lost something."

Azrael shook her head. "My brother Michael misinformed me," she said lightly. "It's a task. Well, probably more than one. And kind of... a vacation."

"Okay," Linda said, drawing out the word to give herself time to think. "What's the task?" Seeing Azrael's triumphant look to Josh, Linda added quickly, "That wasn't picking sides!"

"She doesn't know what the task is," Josh explained. "But she'll do it." Turning to his sister, he added, "Rae, Dad knows what he's doing. You have to have faith. Even a little, like a -"

Azrael groaned. "Not the mustard seed again, Josh. Nobody gets the mustard seed."

"Matthew did," Josh replied, his brows lowering. "Really, it's not a tough concept. It starts out small, and -"

Azrael reached over and patted her little brother's hand, her expression sympathetic and just a little amused, "He was just trying to make you feel better."

Linda watched the pair with fascination.

Azrael, catching her gaze, grinned briefly. "Yes, that Matthew." Sobering, she added, "I know he's not going to tell me what I'm supposed to do. He made that very clear. But I'd like to know why. Why me, why here?"

Josh sighed. "You're splitting hairs. If I told you why, that would basically be the same thing as telling you what."

Linda shifted forward in her chair, drawing the attention of the siblings and grimacing just a bit at the weight of their regard. Still, she asked, "Rae, why does it matter so much for you to know why?"

Azrael cast a frustrated look at her brother then looked down at the table for a moment, tracing one finger around a coffee stain. "Wouldn't you want to know?" she asked softly. "I mean, knowing who our father is, if you knew he wanted you to do something but wouldn't tell you what it was?" She sighed, raking a hand through her hair to rub at the back of her neck, then glanced out the window.

Linda nodded thoughtfully. "I suppose I would," she agreed slowly. Turning to Josh, she asked, "Did your father ask you not to tell her?"

"Not in so many words, but the implication was there," Josh replied.

Azrael shifted back in her chair and looked over at her brother. "And you're not going to cross Dad." Her words were a statement of fact, with no criticism evident. She of all beings, after all, could hardly take offense at paternal obedience. "Okay, what about answering a very specific question?"

"I'd have to hear it before I can say," Josh replied, his expression serious.

Linda finally took a drink of her coffee. Of course, it was no longer hot. Of course.

Azrael lowered her voice, looking intently at her brother as she spoke. "What he wants me to do, will it result in Lucifer going back to Hell?"

Linda turned sharply to look at Josh, who didn't answer immediately. Finally, when he had considered his answer long enough that a look of impatience crossed Azrael's face, he said, "I don't think so, but I'm not Uriel. I can't see the patterns the way he could. That's not the intended immediate effect, though."

"Good," Azrael replied, though she still looked as if she would have preferred a more definitive answer. "Thanks, Josh. I appreciate it."

Josh nodded, though not without a hint of unease. "I should get back," he said, resting a hand briefly on Azrael's shoulder. "Linda, it was nice meeting you. Good luck with my family."

"Thanks," Linda replied, with a wan smile. "I'll probably need it."

Azrael watched Josh depart, then took a drink of her coffee. "Ugh, cold," she murmured, making a wry face. She looked over at Linda, asking, "So how are you?"

"This is almost starting to feel routine," the therapist replied, with a sigh. "I don't know what that says about me."

Azrael smiled. "I'll try for more warning if another of my siblings shows up, but I didn't know you'd be here."

Linda made a vague, dismissive gesture with one hand, studying Azrael as she did so. "Are they likely to do that?"

Azrael shrugged, glancing out the window. "Honestly, I have no idea. Raf and Michael have been here. Gabriel shows up occasionally, though I haven't seen him lately - you'd like him, everyone does." She got to her feet, adding, "Josh said there's a pet store across the street. Want to go look at puppies?"

Linda laughed, shaking her head. "You know what? Why not."

Azrael got to her feet and grabbed her cup, tossing it in a nearby trash can. "Puppy therapy," she quipped. An idea struck her, and she turned to Linda. "Do you have someone to talk to? I mean, you've gone through some stuff with all this, I'll bet."

"Oh, I have," Linda agreed. "But who would I tell? I can talk to Maze, though, and it helps that Chloe knows, too, for..." Linda took in the nearby people in the coffeehouse and elided her words. "... someone with an experience more like mine."

"Well, I'm always glad to chat, if you like," Azrael offered. "Or just listen. Goodness knows, my family can inspire some rants." Linda nodded noncommittally, and Azrael smiled. "On to the puppies? Won't be the weirdest thing you've done today."

"Truer words were never spoken," Linda replied as she stood, her voice utterly sincere.


	40. Chapter 40

**Author's note: Welcome to new followers and thanks to everyone for sticking with this story. I promise it will reach a conclusion at some point!**

* * *

Chloe opened the door, surprised to see Azrael waiting and more surprised to see the departing Lyft. Brows lifting, she said, "Trixie's not getting home for a while yet."

"I know," Azrael replied. Seeing Chloe's puzzled look, she clarified, "That's not some weird angel trick. She SnapChatted me last night."

Chloe chuckled, her expression clearing. Gesturing after the departing car as she pulled open the door to let Azrael in, she queried, "Couldn't you have just flown here? Why pay for a Lyft and sit in traffic?"

Azrael murmured her thanks as she entered, looking over her shoulder as she closed the door. "Traffic's less awful if you're not the one driving," she opined. "I did a little reading, a little thinking. And money isn't exactly an issue." Seeing that Chloe wasn't going to let the first question go, she admitted a little evasively, "There are a lot of people in this city, and I'm kind of paranoid about showing my wings now, after you and Trixie saw them."

Chloe nodded as she stepped back to the kitchen. "You did seem surprised that we saw them," she allowed. "What, do you usually have some sort of... cloaking device on them or something?"

Azrael brightened as she followed and climbed into a seat at the breakfast bar. "Oh, like Star Trek? Ella told me about Star Trek," she explained, "And I looked it up. It's something like that, only not a device, just an innate ability. I'm supposed to have it - Raphael said - but now I'm not so sure. And it's not like I want to pull them out and wander around asking people, 'Hey, do I have something on my back?'" She chuckled at the mental image, then added more seriously, "If people could see them, well, that would be bad." She frowned thoughtfully, murmuring, "Maybe Linda. She hasn't seen them, and she already knows... though maybe she'd appreciate not getting involved, for once."

"Did you get in trouble over us seeing your wings?" Chloe asked, concerned. "What happened with your father? Lucifer said you two, uh, had a chat."

Azrael shook her head, though she didn't elaborate further. "Is that coffee back there?" she asked hopefully. "Black's fine."

Chloe took the hint and poured Azrael a mug, adding, "I understand intellectually that you're a lot older than you look, but I have to say that giving you coffee feels pretty weird."

Azrael took the mug with a murmur of thanks, saying dryly, " _That's_ the weird part?"

Chloe laughed, shaking her head. "Rae, there is so much weird in all this that sometimes it's just easier to focus on the coffee." She poured herself some coffee as well and said casually, "Your brother does that, too - changes the subject when he doesn't want to tell me something."

Azrael shrugged, saying mildly, "I don't think that's just an angelic trait, though. And, well, better avoidance than lying."

"I notice you still didn't answer my question," Chloe observed.

Azrael nodded. "Funny how that works out, huh?"

Making a wry face, Chloe said, "You were a lot easier to deal with when you were pretending to be eleven."

"Sorry," Azrael replied, her lips curving in the smallest of smiles. "I'm just still figuring out everything with Dad. He's... it was sort of involved."

"Imagine that," Chloe observed, shaking her head.

Azrael took a drink, then asked, "How... how has Lucifer been lately?"

Chloe regarded the girl for a moment. "You live with him, and you're asking me this?"

Azrael shifted in her chair. "I slept a lot yesterday, and today he was gone before I got up." Looking away from the Detective's steady gaze, she added, "We had a talk the night I got back... maybe a little too much honesty. But if I lied to him, even to try and make him feel better, that would have been worse." She sighed ruefully, adding, "He can tell when I lie."

"Is _that_ a weird angel trick?" Chloe asked, her smile still a little disbelieving.

Azrael shook her head. "Big brother trick," she replied succinctly. "Not weird at all. He caught me out too many times when I was little, knows my tells."

Chloe frowned as she realized, "Wait, angels lie?"

Nodding ruefully, Azrael replied, "It's not all harps and rainbows upstairs, no matter what the stories say."

Chloe leaned against the breakfast bar, her expression thoughtful. "So, what, you and Lucifer had a fight and now you're not talking?"

"Not a fight," Azrael clarified. "Just... things got a little intense. And now we're kind of avoiding each other." Taking in Chloe's raised eyebrows, she added, "What, you think you guys invented passive-aggressive behavior? That one started with Dad a long time ago. _Cain, where's your brother?_ " she quipped, deepening her voice. Dropping into her regular tone, she added wryly, "Like he didn't know."

"Huh, you're snarky today," Chloe observed.

Looking up from her coffee, Azrael replied, "You're the second person to tell me that. Don't worry; I'll get it out of my system before Trixie gets home." She smiled, adding, "Are you going to answer my question about Lucifer, or were you distracting me to avoid it?"

"What? No." Chloe started to shift some dirty dishes into the sink. "He's been... well, a little off, now that I think about it."

Azrael slid down from the stool, bringing over her mug. "I can do those," she offered. "I like doing dishes."

Chloe stared at her a moment, then joked, "Now there's real proof that you're an angel. Want to move in? We could use someone who likes doing dishes."

"Ha, careful what you wish for." Azrael rolled up her sleeves, turned on the water, and grabbed the dish soap. "Warm water, bubbles, making things clean - and, no, that's not a metaphor. It's nice to accomplish something I can see." She frowned a little, adding, "How is Luci being off?"

Chloe took her coffee to the breakfast bar, watching Azrael start on the dishes. "This is weirder than coffee," she decided. "An angel doing my dishes."

Azrael grinned. "Is there some sort of scale? Wings on one end, coffee on the other?" Still, she was clearly waiting for an answer to her question about her brother.

Chloe chuckled and nodded, then said thoughtfully, "It's not anything too awful. He just keeps looking at me when he doesn't think I'm watching."

"But you are?" Azrael queried.

Chloe nodded. "I'm pretty much always watching." Seeing Azrael's sudden, knowing smile, she amended, "Not like that. Just... detective. I watch."

Azrael shrugged agreeably, humming over her dishes for a moment. "How he was looking at you was different than usual?"

Chloe nodded once more. "Like he was trying to figure something out."

Azrael grimaced. "Okay, yeah. That's probably because I told him I thought Dad sent me to show you and Trixie my wings, so you'd know who he really is."

"Well, it's not like he hasn't been telling me who he is since I've known him," Chloe replied.

"Right," Azrael agreed, frowning a moment over a particularly stubborn bit of dried food on one of the plates. Looking over, she added, "But would you ever have believed him without some really obvious evidence?"

Chloe shook her head, straightening a stack of Trixie's drawings. "Apparently not, though looking back I'm embarrassed at how long I let myself ignore it. I mean, some of what I saw _was_ really obvious evidence."

Azrael shrugged, rinsing off the plate and tucking it into the drying rack. "It's easier to ignore something that's that far outside of your sphere of experience."

Chloe got up and came over to start drying the dishes. "True, but some of the things that happened... I still think I should have caught on earlier." She's frowned as she put away the dry plate. "Is he upset that I know? He seemed okay with it."

Azrael shook her head. "No. Or, well, not with you." She handed over another plate. "But if Dad sent me to do it..."

Chloe came to the right conclusion. "So he feels manipulated." Azrael nodded, and Chloe paused in her dish-drying to peer at the girl. "Do _you_ feel manipulated?"

Azrael pulled the stopper from the dish drain. "It's just... this is how Dad works, Chloe. Maybe it's harder for Luci because he's been in Hell all this time, away from Dad's influence. Dad needs things to be done, and his children are his instruments." She saw Chloe's expression and clarified softly, an admission, "His tools."

"Rae, he's your father," Chloe protested. "He's using you, manipulating you, and you don't seem to care. That's not how parents should act."

Azrael leaned lightly against the sink, head bowed, one hand braced against the counter. "I care," she replied, her voice still quiet, as if the low volume could keep her words hidden. "I just don't have a choice. He's got me over a barrel." Looking up to see Chloe's frustrated look, she asked, "Don't human parents manipulative their kids?"

"Good ones don't," Chloe flared. "And your father is supposed to be better, right? He's supposed to be this benevolent, compassionate being, but all I see is a guy who treats his kids like crap."

Azrael took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Chloe, this is how it's always been," she said finally, her words a plea for understanding.

Chloe shook her head, her lips tight. "That doesn't make it right, Rae." Frowning, she asked, "Have you ever talked to Linda about this?"

Azrael peered at Chloe in confusion. "What, like therapy? No."

"Maybe you should," Chloe suggested. "Rae, he's been doing this to you... forever, right? Maybe talking to Linda could help."

Azrael shook her head, a short, definite gesture. "Chloe, you see my father as... well, a bad parent. To Linda, he's God. I couldn't go to her about this. Plus, she's going to burn out, as much as she's been dealing with my family." She's hesitated, then added lamely, "Dad's not usually this bad. At least, not where I'm concerned. Usually he just... leaves me alone, unless I give him a reason not to."

"Are you listening to yourself?" Chloe demanded. "You're making excuses for him. Between you and Lucifer, he's done things no parent should ever do to a child." Seeing Azrael's tense expression, she relented a little. "Okay, I get not wanting to talk to Linda. But if you ever need to vent or anything, I'm here, yeah?"

Azrael nodded. "Yeah," she echoed softly. "Thanks, Chloe." There was a moment of awkwardness, then Azrael leaned down to look at one of the pictures on the refrigerator: a much-younger Chloe with a police officer. "This your dad?"

Chloe looked over. "Oh... yeah. Trix must have put that there." She smiled, sad but fond, though the smile faded at Azrael's distant expression. For once, she utterly believed that the small girl before had spent millenia as the Angel of Death: her eyes were ageless and profoundly sad. "Did you..." She took a breath, then tried again. "Do you remember him?"

Azrael nodded. Very quietly, she said, "I remember all of them." She smiled a little. "Just better with faces than names, that's all." She ran one hand lightly along the edge of the picture, then turned. "Do you want to hear about it?"

Chloe looked about the room, then stepped past the breakfast bar, sinking to a seat on the couch. "I..." She nodded, unable to speak.

Azrael moved to sit next to Chloe. "He's in the Silver City, of course," she began, dark eyes full of compassion. "It was quick. He didn't suffer, truly." Seeing Chloe's eyes glisten, she reached over to rest a hand lightly on the detective's, concluding softly, "His last thoughts were of you and your mom. He was so proud of you, Chloe."

Chloe clutched tightly at Azrael's hand, a single sob welling up from deep within her before she could stop herself. She couldn't speak for a moment, but then managed, her voice choked, "He would have loved Trixie so much." Azrael nodded, putting a bracing arm around the detective. Chloe continued, a tear rolling unchecked down her cheek, "He missed so much: my wedding, seeing me follow in his path, and Trixie. That's what I'm the saddest about him missing. He would have been the best grandpa, and Trixie would have thought he hung the moon."

"I know this is small comfort," Azrael offered gently, "But he knows her."

"They let people see, from... from the Silver City?" Chloe asked softly.

Azrael smiled. "It would hardly be Heaven if they wouldn't let you see your loved ones."

Chloe smiled, giving Azrael's hand a final squeeze and then releasing it. "That does help. I never thought that hearing something like that would be comforting. It never felt real."

"I promise it is," Azrael replied, gently easing back.

Clearly fumbling for something else, anything else to discuss, Chloe said, "You remember them - us? - all? So... when you told that story about Gilgamesh, you knew him?"

Azrael nodded, with a faint smile. "Nice guy, eventually. He tried to avoid death, but I come for everyone. Well... came." She made a face as she caught her phrasing and added, in an obvious mimicry of Lucifer, "And not in the fun way."

That elicited a chuckle from Chloe, and so she was smiling, though her eyes were still damp, when the door opened and Trixie tumbled into the apartment. The girl's cheerful "Hi, Mommy!" turned into a delighted "Rae!" as the little girl noticed her friend and promptly arrowed around the couch to her.

"Hey, Trixie," Azrael replied, curling an arm around the girl and subtly angling her away from the detective, giving Chloe a moment to pull herself together.

Dan, coming in just after his daughter, greeted Azrael with a pleasant, "Hey, the prodigal returns."

Azrael replied, shaking her head, "No, I'm good with money." Seeing Dan frown a little in puzzlement, she added, "It's come to mean _the ungrateful person who finally got a clue and returned to the fold_ \- thanks for that, by the way - but the original meaning is a spendthrift." Seeing Chloe's sharply elevated eyebrows and a look that was clearly telling her to tone it down, she added brightly, "I read a lot."

Dan just shook his head, though he smiled as he did so. "Sounds like you do," he replied. "Well, welcome back, kiddo. There's a lot of people glad you're home." He caught sight of Chloe and looked concerned, but didn't comment.

Azrael bit back her initial response - that this wasn't her home, that _kiddo_ definitely wasn't appropriate - and instead smiled. "Thanks," she replied. "I'm glad to be back."

Dan claimed a hug from Trixie and made his farewells after confirming plans for a pizza night later in the week.

Closing the door behind her her ex, Chloe shook her head. "Seriously, how did I ever believe you were a little kid?"

"Occam's razor," Azrael observed. Seeing Trixie's frown, the clarified, "The simplest explanation. Which would most people think is more likely: that I'm a regular kid who reads a lot, or that I'm an angel?"

"Regular kid," Trixie replied, with a grin. Looking thoughtful a moment, she asked, "Don't you want to tell people, though?"

Azrael hesitated, then admitted, "Sometimes. But not everybody could handle it the way you and your mom did."

Trixie nodded agreeably, then asked, "Hey can I come to church with you on Sunday?"

Azrael caught Chloe's startled look out of the corner of her eye, and shook her head. "Not this Sunday. I've got to talk to some people afterward." Sliding her feet out of her shoes and folding her legs tailor-fashion, she asked, "Why do you want to go?"

"When we went before, it was fun."

Azrael smiled a little. "It's not usually like that. The play was special. And I'm pretty sure nobody else is going to be showing you their wings in the bathroom, if that's what you're hoping for," she teased.

Trixie grinned. "I know," she replied. "But I still want to go."

"I think," Azrael suggested, "that this is something that you and your mom should figure out together. And while I like St. Brennan's a lot, there are plenty of churches in the area. Catholicism can be kind of intimidating for newcomers."

Trixie looked a little dubious, but nodded, dismissing the subject for now. Leaning past Azrael to address her mother, she asked, "Can we bake cookies, Mommy?"

"Sure, baby," Chloe agreed, with a smile.

After the cookies and the stories and the impromptu dance party that Azrael, after some wheedling, joined, it was time for her to leave. Azrael hesitated by the door. "Hey, this is probably nothing..."

"What is it?" Chloe asked.

"I've just had this feeling that somebody's been following me," Azrael confessed. "Or, well, something. When I left Lucifer's place this morning, and then at Beelzebean and the pet store... even when I was waiting for you to get the door. I keep looking," she added, with a touch of annoyance, "But I don't see anything."

Chloe's gaze sharpened, and she looked out the window. "Do you want me to take you back to Lux?"

Azrael shook her head. "No, thanks. The car's already here. I just wanted someone to know, in case this is more than a creepy feeling. And maybe..." She looked a little sheepish. "Maybe watch that I get to the Lyft okay?"

Chloe nodded, her concern obvious. "Of course," she agreed. "Have a good night, yeah?"

Azrael smiled. "You, too, Chloe."


	41. Chapter 41

Azrael hummed under her breath as she rode the elevator up to the penthouse at Lux. The being-watched feeling had persisted as she made her way to the Lyft, but was gone when she left the car and went into Lux; apparently her stalker had vanished somewhere between the two destinations, and the relief made her feel a little giddy. The bag of chocolate chip cookies she'd brought with her as a peace offering for Lucifer didn't hurt, either. She pulled off her jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch, dropping the bag of cookies on the seat.

"Luci, are you here?" she called, though the room's darkness answered her question. Still, she listened for a moment and then peered into his bedroom, just in case.

Her back to the main penthouse, she froze as the being-watched feeling returned at ten times the intensity. Ice crept up her spine, and she didn't even have time to scream before she found herself whirled around at a dizzying speed and then slammed against the wall, face to face with an infuriated demon.

"Mazikeen," Azrael breathed, relaxing fractionally.

She should not have relaxed, not even a little. The demon hoisted her higher, pushing her hard enough against the wall that the carvings on its surface gouged her back; hard enough, she realized, that she couldn't unfurl her wings.

"What -" Azrael began, but Maze shoved her still harder against the wall.

"Shut up," the demon growled.

Azrael shut up.

"You're leaving," Maze informed her grimly. "Get your stuff and go."

Azrael pursed her lips, then shook her head.

"Fine," the demon snapped. "Don't take your stuff. But you're leaving if I have to throw you out of here myself." She looked significantly toward the balcony.

Azrael exhaled a short, derisive sound, though not without an uneasy flicker of a glance toward the balcony. "I do have wings, in case you -"

With her free hand, Maze backhanded Azrael across the mouth. "Should have done that last time."

Azrael sucked in a breath, blinking hard. It hurt, but she knew the demon was capable of dealing out far more pain with such a blow. She was restraining herself? "Mazikeen, why -" She cut off her words when the demon lifted her hand once more.

"You're going to leave anyway," Maze said, biting each word. "You might as well do it now."

Azrael shook her head once more, risking a single word. "No."

Maze's hand flashed behind her back. She released Azrael, the girl landing on her feet with a jarring thud, and then Maze shoved her against the wall once more, one of her demon-forged blades appearing at Azrael's throat.

That gave Azrael a moment's pause; her attention focused on the knife. She took a careful breath, holding herself as still as she could manage. "Why?" she repeated, though this time her voice was quiet and restrained.

"You're no good for Lucifer," Maze replied, her words as sharp as her blade. "You picked your father over him, like everyone else in your family."

Azrael began, "I didn't -" but Maze shifted her knife and Azrael suddenly decided that silence was the better choice.

"The worst thing is that you don't even get it," Maze spat. "You came here, you got all buddy-buddy with him, and you're just going to leave as soon as Daddy says you can. You don't even realize what it's doing to him." Azrael looked as if Maze had slapped her again, but the demon continued, relentless. "So you're leaving before you can screw things up even more. Today. Now."

Azrael took another careful breath and tried to back away from the demon, though the wall behind her made that impossible. Suddenly uncomfortably aware of the saliva in her mouth, she wanted to swallow, but the nearness of the blade made her wary of doing anything that might cause her throat to move. "I can't," she whispered.

Maze stepped closer, casually disregarding her invasion of Azrael's personal space, until only the demon's superior height kept them from being nose-to-nose. "I don't know why you think you have a choice in the matter, Tiny Death."

The laugh that escaped Azrael was a soft, bitter sound. "Since when do I have a choice in _anything_ that really matters? You know what? Go ahead." She lifted her chin, providing easier access for Maze's blade. Her dark eyes held challenge, but also, buried deep, a certain desperation. "Do it. He'll just send me back in another body." She hesitated a moment, some of the bravado leaving her manner. Her voice lowered as she continued, "Just... clean up after yourself. I don't want Lucifer finding this body like that. And you get to explain to Trixie where her friend went."

Unlike the evening of the play, this time it was Maze's hand that trembled, her knife grazing Azrael's throat. It was a shallow cut, missing anything vital, with no real damage, but Maze still muttered a curse. Careless. She had expected arguments, pleading... anything but this despairing acquiescence. The demon let out a roar of frustration at her inability to finish the job and drove her hand into the wall near Azrael's head, pulling the knife away from Azrael's throat as she did so.

Azrael clapped a hand to the wound, turning to stare wide-eyed at the wall. It... something... drew her. A glint from within caught her attention and she reached into the crack left by Maze's blow, her hand just barely fitting through the space in the wall.

The instant she touched it, she felt a surge along her arm, almost electrical. Her hand went numb for a moment, fingers reflexively tightening around the hilt. She drew out the familiar shape of her blade, and a shudder rippled through her body. Stunned, she curled around the blade like a child with a favorite toy, her eyes closing tightly. "Get Lucifer," she demanded through clenched teeth.

The demon hesitated. She didn't think Azrael had a grudge against Lucifer; all the interactions she'd seen between them lately had been pleasant, or at least amicable. Still, the millenia-long habit of protecting him was hard to shake, and she knew she didn't want him anywhere near this situation.

Azrael opened her eyes. They had gone completely black. "Get. Lucifer," she repeated. " _Now_."

"No way," Maze replied, backing up a step. A second knife appeared in her free hand.

Azrael let her eyes sink closed, another tremor rocking her body. "Please."

The word was barely audible, but it twisted in the demon like one of her own knives. She didn't care what happened to Lucifer's stupid little sister. She _didn't_. Almost reaching for her phone, she retreated another step, hating both the motion and the uncertainty that caused it.

Unfortunately for Maze, or perhaps fortunately, Azrael wasn't the only one without a choice in the matter. The elevator doors opened, and Lucifer called as he strode into the penthouse, "Rae, the Detective called and told me that she sent you off with cookies. If you've eaten them all, I'm definitely going to have to -"

"Get back," Maze shouted, moving to put herself between Lucifer and his sister.

Lucifer peered at the demon in amused puzzlement, not yet having noticed his sister huddled against the wall. "We can go halfsies if you'd like, but you can't have _all_ the cookies, Maze. And I'm sure the Detective saved some back at your place. No need to get all stabby."

"Will you _shut up_ and get out of here?" Maze disappeared a knife and grabbed Lucifer's arm, shoving him back toward the elevator.

Lucifer detoured around his demon despite Maze's protests. "Here now, what are you...?" He caught sight of his sister and the hole in the wall at the same time, and his expression went deadly serious. "Azrael," he said quietly. "Little sister, what have you done?" She opened her eyes, and Lucifer recoiled a step.

"You see?" Maze urged, tugging at his arm once more. "Lucifer, _go_. I'll handle this, just leave."

"That's an interesting side effect," Lucifer said, his wary expression giving the lie to his light tone. He turned to Maze, his gaze lingering on the knife she still held. "None of that," he said sharply. Maze put away the knife, though they both knew she could re-arm herself in seconds.

Azrael took a step closer to the pair, her blade cradled against her chest; apparently she could see well enough, despite the disconcerting darkness of her eyes. Maze again placed herself between the siblings; Lucifer, with an exasperated noise, sidestepped around her once more.

Azrael observed, as she watched the pair maneuver around each other, "It's the new dance craze sweeping the nation." It would have been amusing, if not for the tremor in her voice. She extended her hand - and the blade - toward her brother. "Take it. Please. I can't keep it together much longer."

"Are you serious?" Maze demanded, as Lucifer stepped toward his sister, his own outstretched hand mirroring hers. "Stay away; you know what she can do with that knife."

"I didn't use it on you, Mazikeen," Azrael snapped, her focus shifting to the demon. "And I've far more reason to want you destroyed."

Lucifer took a step toward Azrael, and she turned her gaze to him once more. "Just give me the blade, little sister," he urged.

"It's mine," Azrael flared, though she grimaced as soon as the words left her mouth, clearly frustrated. She closed her eyes and inhaled a slow, trembling breath, trying desperately to regain control. Without opening her eyes she said, "I can't. You're going to have to take it from me, brother." It was a plea, not a challenge.

Lucifer caught Maze's eye and nodded toward Azrael. Maze echoed the nod and moved to stand behind Azrael, ready to intervene. Lucifer stepped closer to his sister and took her wrist in his hand, painstakingly careful of the angle of the blade. For a moment, he remembered a shattered church, another encounter with a sibling and this blade; he shoved away that memory. Dropping into the language of angels, he used his most soothing, most hypnotic tone. "Let go, Azrael."

She lifted her head sharply, startled by the hearing that language from this of all her brothers. "I can't," she repeated.

Lucifer maintained his grip on his sister's wrist, curling his fingers around hers. "You can," he encouraged, but Azrael shook her head, her eyes still tightly closed. He looked past her to lock eyes with his demon, then turned his attention back to Azrael. "Right. Maze is going to -"

Maze did not give him time to alert the girl, just stepped in smoothly to seize her from behind, a bear hug that secured her arms just above her elbows. Maze may have done better to let Lucifer deliver his warning, for Azrael responded with terrified violence, struggling against the demon's grip even as she used the solidity of Maze's body as leverage to kick up, out... anywhere, her feet flailing wildly. Eyes resolutely closed, she nonetheless caught Lucifer hard in the celiac plexus - more by luck, if you can call it that, than by design - and then again under his chin as he bent over, gasping. Through all that, he maintained an iron grip on her wrist, always mindful of the blade.

"How can you -" Lucifer managed, trying to put a little distance between himself and his struggling sister while still keeping hold of her wrist. Shaking his head, he added, "Maze, let her go."

The demon shook her head, giving him a level look. "I can handle this. Drop her arm."

For a miracle, Lucifer obeyed, rubbing his chin as he stepped out of range.

Maze loosened her grip on Azrael just a little bit, murmuring, "Relax, TD."

Azrael tried desperately to pull the blade closer to herself, though she was thwarted by Maze's grip on her arms.

"Maze," Lucifer urged, reaching for Azrael once more, but the demon shook her head.

"Wait," Maze instructed. She was silent for a moment, not reacting to Azrael's attempts to free herself. "TD, you're doing it wrong. What's the first step?" Seeing no change in the girl's reaction, she said, her voice low but intent, " _Azrael_."

There's power in a name. Azrael went utterly still, then delivered a swift kick just to the demon's ankle.

"Now what?" Maze prompted, no softness in her voice. When Azrael hesitated, Maze said, "You know what to do, but you can't do it while you're holding that knife." She gave Lucifer a significant look: *now*.

Lucifer stepped forward, his voice all honey and silk as he urged, "Give me the blade, Rae."

Azrael's grip finally slackened, and the knife fell hilt-first into Lucifer's waiting hands.

Lucifer stepped back, relief clear on his face. "Let her go now."

Maze snorted, tightening her grip. "She knows this one. C'mon, TD. _Do it._ "

In a flurry of motion, Azrael repeated the kick, then jumped forward just a bit, lowering her body as she landed and eeling out of Maze's grip. She reached over one shoulder to grab Maze's arm, then stepped forward, throwing Maze over her shoulder. The demon rolled smoothly to land on her feet.

Breathing hard, Azrael opened her eyes to reveal that they had returned to their normal brown. She looked down at her trembling hands, surprised to find them empty, then over to where Maze waited, arms folded over her chest. "Thank you."

The demon didn't smile. "About time you figured out that throw."

Azrael turned to her brother, her gaze dropping after a moment, and then crossed to get glasses and alcohol.

"How, exactly, did all this come about?" Lucifer demanded. Taking a closer look at his sister, he realized, "Rae, you're bleeding. What's happened?"

Azrael didn't answer, but instead poured three drinks before making her way back to the couch, where she claimed the cookies and brought them to the glasses. She opened the zip-lock bag - gallon-sized; Chloe had been generous - though she opted for alcohol over baked goods. Settling into a seat, she drank grimly, as if aiming for oblivion.

Lucifer watched her for a moment, frowning, then crossed to take the other two glasses, offering one to Maze. "Unless all three of those were for you," he added to Azrael, sliding the bottle out of her reach despite her annoyed look. "I'd like to get a little sense out of you first, if you don't mind," he said pointedly. "What happened?"

Azrael shook her head as Maze took the offered drink and downed it in one gulp. "I almost killed your sister," the demon explained bluntly, setting aside the empty glass.

"Literally?" Lucifer demanded, setting aside his untouched glass. Lifting Azrael's blade, he added, incredulous, "With _this_?" He advanced on Maze, his eyes gone hard and dangerous, though they remained brown, ice-cold rather than burning with Hellfire.

"No," Maze replied, not backing down in the slightest. "That was all her." After a pause, she admitted, "After I broke the wall."

Lucifer didn't look concerned with the hole in the wall. Structural repair was a line item in his budget by this point. "Yes," he replied, his tone making it clear that his patience was fraying. "The wall, fine. But why the near-murder?"

"Lucifer," Azrael interrupted, sounding tense. "Please, either put my blade somewhere I can't see it or give me back the alcohol."

Lucifer glanced at the blade then back to Azrael, his brows lowering in puzzlement. "Right," he agreed. "Just a moment." He disappeared into his bedroom, returning empty-handed.

Azrael exhaled a quiet, relieved breath. "Thanks. It's... I can't really explain it, but it's easier if it's not in the room." She rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand, adding, "Maze and I were discussing the fact that she thinks I shouldn't be here."

"I invited you to stay - more than once, in fact, and I haven't rescinded the invitation," Lucifer replied. He cast an annoyed look at the demon, who seemed a little wary. "So of course you should be here."

Azrael shook her head. "Maybe not," she replied, though it clearly pained her to say it. "Maybe I shouldn't. Bad enough that I'm doing... whatever it is Dad sent me here to do. I shouldn't be living here rubbing your nose in it."

Lucifer stared at his sister, his eyes wide and shocked. "You'd just... leave? Rae, that's hardly necessary."

"Look, I don't _want_ to go," Azrael said, obviously meaning it. "I've enjoyed being here with you, Luci." She fumbled with her words, then tried, "I think part of the reason Dad sent me in this body was so I'd be dependent, I'd have to stay. I... maybe that means I should leave."

"Good idea," Maze said tersely, though the bulk of her attention was on Lucifer.

"No, bad idea," Lucifer protested, sinking into a seat and sending a nasty look to Maze. "Where would you go? Rae, no landlord in their right mind would rent to someone who looks like you."

Azrael, thinking fast, said, "I can stay in a hotel until I sort things out; my property manager could find me somewhere more permanent."

Maze, looking as if she didn't entirely believe that Azrael was taking her warning seriously, suggested, "There's always Amenadiel."

"No," Azrael replied flatly. "He'd never agree to it, and I don't think it would go well even if he did."

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Why we even discussing this? I've said you can stay."

Maze made an exasperated noise. "Seriously, do I need to spell it out for you?" she asked Lucifer, brushing past him and taking the drink he'd set aside. "Your father wants her to stay here with you, and she's _leaving_." She raised her eyebrows significantly, then downed Lucifer's drink.

Lucifer turned to his sister, expression incredulous, letting the drink-theft pass. "But you don't want to leave."

Azrael shook her head. "I don't," she agreed softly.

"And it would be a rebellion," Lucifer continued, getting a glass and pouring himself a drink.

"A small one," Azrael agreed, though not without a faintly worried frown. "It's not like I haven't indulged in small rebellions before," she added, with a nod toward the bottle of Scotch.

Lucifer, taking the nod as a request, moved to pour Azrael another drink, but she shook her head. "Best get my stuff together," she demurred, subdued. She slid down from her chair and crossed to pull on her jacket.

"What, now?" Lucifer protested. "Surely you can wait until morning."

Azrael rested a hand briefly on her brother's arm. "It's early yet, and if we start listing reasons to put it off, I might not find the courage." She slipped down the hall, and soon after came the soft click of her door closing.

Lucifer drained his drink, then rounded on Maze. "She's leaving!"

"She was always going to leave," the demon replied, though not without compassion. "Lucifer, this is a good thing. It's not quite flipping your old man the bird, but it's a start."

The two sat in silence until Azrael returned, her backpack over her shoulder. "I couldn't fit everything," she said apologetically, "And I'll need to deal with the library books..."

"I can drop them off for you," Lucifer offered.

Azrael murmured her thanks. After a moment of hesitation, she added, "Look, after I've left, call Raziel. He won't come if I'm here - Dad's orders - but he will once I'm gone. Give him the blade. He should have it." Still, her gaze slid toward Lucifer's bedroom.

"Last I checked, it wasn't called _Raziel's Blade_ ," Lucifer replied, shaking his head. "I'll hang on to it for you. You can come get it once you're back to yourself."

Azrael smiled, her eyes glistening suspiciously. "These days, I'm not really sure..." She shook her head, instead saying, "Thanks, brother. I've got my phone," she added. "I'll stay in touch."

Maze, clearly a little impatient with all the emotions, offered, "I can give you a lift, TD?"

"Because that worked out so well last time?" Azrael shook her head, with a wry smile. "I'll get a Lyft." She hesitated rather awkwardly, then stepped in to give Lucifer a quick hug before turning to the elevator. She didn't say anything as the doors closed, but simply watched her brother.

* * *

 **Author's note: Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter. I got bogged down in the middle at a particularly tricky spot.**

 **This version is much nicer than the other one I considered. ;)**


	42. Chapter 42

**Author's note: Thanks to centrd for educating me on CA law and taxis! I live far from CA and somewhere that I'm more likely to see tractors on the road than taxis, so that definitely didn't occur to me. ;) Also, welcome to new followers and thanks to everyone who keeps reading and (especially) reviewing! The next chapter should be up relatively soon.**

* * *

It didn't take long for the Lyft to arrive. Azrael got in the car and stared at traffic through her window, ignoring the looks the driver was giving her in the rear view mirror. Finally, the woman spoke. "You okay back there, baby?"

"Yeah." Something about the way the woman looked at her in the mirror made Azrael straighten out of her slumped posture and amend, "Yes." She didn't add _ma'am_ , though the word almost escaped her lips.

"You look like you're running away from something."

Azrael shrugged. The driver wasn't entirely wrong.

The woman changed lanes. "Your people know where you are?"

Azrael laughed without humor. "Yes." One of her siblings was probably watching her. Yeah, they knew where she was.

The woman made a quiet tsking sound. "That's too old a laugh for a little girl like you."

Azrael met the woman's gaze in the mirror with a steady look of her own. "I'm not a little girl."

That elicited a laugh from the woman: a deep, rich belly laugh that made even Azrael smile. "It's mostly little girls that say that. Folks are more likely to recognize they've got more to learn when they're grown."

Azrael leaned back in her seat, trying not to look irritated. "I know I've still got a lot to learn. That doesn't have anything to do with not being little." There was always more to learn. Swing dancing. Molecular gastronomy. Steeking - really, how could people cut up something they'd spend hours knitting? She should come up with something to do with all this spare time. One could only read so much.

"Well, I'm glad you understand that, baby," the woman replied, with an amused smile. "Hey, you're going to a good place. Nice for thinking."

Azrael peered at the driver. "You've been there? I haven't seen you."

"Maybe," the driver replied with a shrug. "I get around. Sometimes I lose track."

The ride continued in silence for several minutes, the driver casting the occasional glance at Azrael in the mirror. "Sorry it's taking so long. Traffic."

Azrael nodded. "I think I'll get out and walk. It's only just up the road a bit, and it'll be faster this way."  
The woman hummed agreeably as she pulled the car over. "Just be careful, now. And baby?" Azrael paused, the door open, and looked back at the driver. "You have a good night, now."

"Thanks. You, too." Azrael nodded as she paid the woman. She left an excellent tip.

Pulling her backpack over one shoulder, she strode down the sidewalk, not at all surprised when Josh fell in step with her. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Josh offered her a cup from Beelzebean, saying, "Well, it would have been strange if I'd just appeared in the cab. People tend to notice stuff like that."

Azrael took the cup with a murmur of thanks, then made a face when she tasted the contents. "What _is_ this?"

"Spearmint, lemongrass, and chamomile, mostly," Josh replied.

"Herbal tea?" Azrael replied, annoyed. "Come on, Josh."

Josh stuck his hands in his pockets as he walked. "Well, you've had kind of a stressful evening," he began. "I thought the tea might help. Chamomile, you know. It's relaxing."

Azrael took another sip. Now that she wasn't expecting coffee, it wasn't so bad. "Didn't take you long to bring up the evening," she observed, casting a sidelong look at her brother.

"Yes, well..." Josh shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Thought you might want to talk about it."

Azrael shook her head. "There's nothing to talk about."

Josh sighed. "Rae, you know this isn't what Dad wants."

Azrael came to a stop at the foot of the steps. "He said to come back to LA," she replied, lifting her cup in a flourish as if to say, _And here I am._

"You know that's not what he meant." When Azrael didn't respond, Josh pushed, "You'd rather be at Lucifer's place, right? You'd both be happier with you there."

With an exasperated huff, Azrael replied, "Yes, well, life isn't about being happy - at least, mine isn't. You should know that by now, little brother." She sat on the bottom step, letting the backpack thump next to her.

Josh couldn't help but smile at the appellation, though his smile held a trace of sadness for Azrael's words. He blinked up at the building behind them: St. Brennan's. "You're staying here?"

"What, having a _knew ye not that I must be in my Father's house_ kind of moment? No, I'm not staying here." Looking up at her brother, Azrael added, "I still can't believe Mary let you get away with that line."

"It took some fast talking," Josh admitted, settling to a seat next to Azrael. "So if you're not staying here...?"

Azrael pulled out her phone. "I've got the WiFi password." When Josh didn't look enlightened, she added, "For the hotel reservation. You shouldn't use an unsecured network if you're using your credit card on the internet, Josh. Hey, speaking of, are you going to be around later? I'll need someone who looks like an adult to check me in."

Josh nodded, though not without a small frown. "I probably shouldn't, but I guess it's okay... wait, what do you mean _looks like_ an adult?"

That actually sparked a small smile from Azrael, though she didn't reply.

"Rae, come on," Josh urged. "Think about what you're doing."

Azrael kept her head bent over her phone. "I did think about it."

Josh persisted, "Some demon tells you to do something and you just do it?"

Azrael lifted her gaze from the phone and turned it upon her brother. "Just because she's a demon doesn't mean she's wrong," she said, with some heat. "She knows Luci better than any of us, and if she says what I'm doing is hurting him, I believe her."

Josh lifted his hands in a placating gesture. "None of us wants you to hurt Lucifer," he reassured. "But Dad did send you here for a reason."

"I know," Azrael replied, elongating the vowel in her irritation.

Josh thought, but did not say, that she was acting particularly like an eleven year-old in that moment.

Azrael continued, "Did leaving the way I did mean that I won't be able to accomplish the task?" She looked as if she wasn't sure what answer she'd prefer.

Josh was silent for a moment, then shook his head. "You'll still be able to do it."

Azrael sighed very quietly, but nodded. Before she could say anything, a voice came from the church door. "Rae, is that you?"

Azrael turned, then got to her feet, nodding. "Father Joe, hi," she greeted.

The priest came down the steps to meet her. "It's good to see you. Did you come for Youth Group? You're a little late, but I'm sure there's still plenty of pizza." He looked at Josh, then, his expression puzzled and a little concerned.

Azrael, noting the concern, glanced at her brother. Sure, his hair was in need of cutting by some standards, but he wasn't looking particularly disreputable.

Josh got to his feet as well; Azrael, standing near Father Joe, saw the nimbus around his head made by the nearby streetlight and frowned at her brother. Overkill. Azrael replied to the priest, "I didn't realize that Youth Group was tonight."

"Well, you're certainly welcome to come," Father Joe replied absently, his attention on Josh. "I'm sorry, have we met? You look..."

Josh shifted position, and the halo vanished. "I don't think so, not as such. I'm Rae's brother Josh."

"Father Joe Callahan." Father Joe offered a hand and, after a moment, Josh shook it. The priest frowned a little, though the expression was thoughtful, rather than negative. "I'm sure I know you from somewhere."

"I think he might just have one of those faces," Azrael observed, giving Josh a significant look.  
Josh nodded. "I should get going," he said, with a smile. "I'll catch you later, Rae. Think about what I said, okay?"

Azrael regarded her brother for a moment. "I'll give you a call."

Josh lifted a hand in farewell and headed off down the street. The crowds thickened behind him, and then he was gone.

Father Joe peered after Josh, that puzzled frown still furrowing his brow. His gaze shifting to Azrael, he offered an apologetic smile. "One of those faces," he agreed vaguely. "Do you have a minute to chat before you go join the others?"

Azrael did not bother to mention that she did not intend to go to Youth Group, but she did nod to the priest. "Of course."

Father Joe led the way into the church and then down a hallway to his office. He took a seat, gesturing for Azrael to sit as well. She did, settling her backpack at her feet and carefully not looking at the painting on the wall before her, one that actually bore a rather significant resemblance to Josh. Was it watching her? So many of those Josh-paintings seemed to follow her with their eyes. It was a little unnerving.

Father Joe took note of the backpack, which was full nearly to bursting. "Is everything all right?" His gaze sharpening, he added, "Are you bleeding?"

Azrael lifted a hand to her throat, shaking her head. "Cut myself shaving," she quipped, her expression blandly pleasant. "It's fine."

The priest didn't look entirely reassured, but didn't pursue the issue. "Well, I'm glad to see you. We missed you at Mass, and I hope we'll see you again on Sunday." Azrael nodded, and Father Joe continued, "What happened last Wednesday? The choir was expecting your help."

Azrael dropped her gaze briefly, then looked back up, with a faintly apologetic smile. "I should have let someone know that I wasn't going to be able to make it."

"Yes," Father Joe agreed, frowning. "The choir wasn't able to accomplish much without an accompanist. And we were worried about you."

"I'm sorry," Azrael said quietly. "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I spent some time with my brother Josh," she added, with a nod toward the church's entrance. "And then my father, too."

Nodding thoughtfully, Father Joe said, "Family is important, of course. Is your father going to bring you home soon?" Seeing Azrael's startled look, he added, "Ella explained something of your situation."

Azrael briefly entertained the thought of the look on Father Joe's face if she explained her actual situation, and shook her head. Setting aside the thought, she explained, "It's all still kind of up in the air." She even managed a straight face with that line.

"Well, I'm sure your brother Lucifer is enjoying your company while you're here," Father Joe encouraged.

Azrael would have preferred another chat with Maze to the priest's ignorant pleasantry. At least the demon's knives were quick. Refocusing on the conversation, she heard Father Joe add, "... so Jack and I went to see your brother at Lux."

"Oh, dear." The words escaped before Azrael could stop them. "I hope he wasn't too..."

Father Joe's smile was understanding, though it held enough discomfort that Azrael could guess how the conversation had gone. "It wasn't as bad as it could have been."

Azrael sighed very quietly. "I'm so sorry. Luci has kind of an attitude about, well, people of faith."

"That must make staying with him kind of interesting," Father Joe said, with a smile.

Azrael nodded rather wistfully. "Yes," she agreed. "Lucifer is many things, and interesting is definitely one of them."

Father Joe smiled. "Well, he's welcome here any time, if he'd like to give it another try."

Sensing that the conversation was wrapping up, Azrael asked, "Father Joe, could I borrow the piano in the choir room?"

"You're not going to Youth Group?" When Azrael shook her head, Father Joe nodded, though not without a concerned frown. "Of course. Just leave it the way you found it."

Azrael nodded, hefting her backpack and leaving with a murmur of farewell.

Father Joe, still frowning, reached for his phone.


	43. Chapter 43

Azrael slipped into the choir room, pulling the door nearly shut behind her. The piano wasn't as nice as Lucifer's - few were - but it would do in a pinch. She glanced at a pile of sheet music top of the piano, then took a closer look as the top sheet caught her eye. The song began, _I have yielded myself to thy service._

Azrael sighed, casting a jaded eye skyward. "All those times I begged for a sign and now you send one? Seriously?" Seating herself at the piano, she added under her breath, "At least I've got your attention."

Azrael warmed up with some scales. She had finally gotten used to these smaller hands and could play most of what she could in her usual form. Starting with the Bach piece she favored, she then shifted to an older melody and proceeded to try to lose herself in the music.

She wasn't sure how long she'd been playing when she realized it wasn't helping. She missed Lucifer. _Stupid,_ she chided herself. _It hasn't even been that long._ But the knowledge that her brother wouldn't be wherever she ended up settled like a hard knot in her throat.

It was anticipation of loss, and she realized that she'd felt this way before, millenia ago, when she'd learned that Samael would be exiled to Hell. She'd stayed away then, unable to watch as he was cast out. She should have gone, should have spoken for him, should have been there so that he would have seen one face mourning his absence. She'd apologized later, when she'd gone to see him in Hell, and he'd waved a dismissive hand, but she'd seen the hurt there, buried deep.

She did not want to see that look again.

Azrael rested her arm on the music rack and settled her forehead on her arm, breathing deeply.

A quiet cough sounded from the door and Azrael jerked upright, turning to see the source of the noise. Really, one of the more annoying aspects of this body was the reduced hearing; people kept catching her unaware.

"Hi, Ella," she greeted, going for a casual tone and knowing that she wasn't quite hitting the right note. "How long were you there?"

"Couple minutes." Ella came fully into the room, carefully balancing two sodas and two plates of pizza. "Father Joe said you weren't going to go to Youth Group, so I brought you some pizza." She settled the plates on the table, then took a seat, smiling in invitation.

Azrael joined the woman, though she observed, "I didn't realize you were involved with the youth group."

"Well, I'm not," Ella admitted.

Azrael considered Ella's demeanor and asked, "Did Father Joe ask you to come talk to me?"

Ella grinned. "That's just a little too perceptive, chickie. He did. He's a little worried about you is all." Her expression sobered as she studied the girl. "You look like you're having a rough day. What's up?"

Azrael shook her head. "I'm good," she replied, summoning a smile. The expression felt strange on her face.

Ella smiled, though she obviously didn't believe Azrael. "It's okay if you don't want to talk about it."

"Good," Azrael replied. She leaned back in her chair, asking, "How was your day?"

"Not bad," Ella said, smiling a little, perhaps recognizing the attempt at distraction. "Work was good." She studied Azrael, then asked, "So what happened to your neck?"

Azrael should have gotten Josh to heal it. It didn't hurt, but the location drew too much attention.  
Realizing that Ella was still watching her, Azrael replied, "Lucifer knows what happened. Tell Father Joe I'm all right, okay? It's not a big deal."

"That's great that Lucifer knows," Ella said gently, "But that's not what I asked. It looks like it was done with a blade - a sharp one." Seeing Azrael's brows lift, she added, "Forensic scientist, remember? But, look, Rae, I can't tell Father Joe you're all right if I'm not sure you are. If you're hurting yourself, we can get you some help. I'm sure Linda knows someone..."

It said something, Azrael mused, that the humans kept thinking she should be in therapy. Still, of all the people Father Joe could have called, Ella was the best choice. He'd probably picked her, Azrael realized, because of her affiliation with both the police and the church. "I didn't do this to myself," she said earnestly. "I mean, that would be dangerous, Ella." She almost smiled at Ella's relieved look.  
"Okay, so what happened?" Ella asked.

 _A demon threatened to kill me because I am unintentionally messing with the Devil's head, and her hand slipped._ Almost, she said it. Almost, she said, _Ask Lucifer,_ but with her luck Ella would, and Lucifer would tell her, and wouldn't that be an adventure? Almost, she said, _It's really none of your business,_ but she knew that she wouldn't like the hurt look Ella would get if she said that. She settled on, "It's complicated," and then took a bite of pizza. It was lukewarm, but still tasty; she hadn't realized how hungry she was. This body still managed to surprise her with its needs. She made short work of the rest of the slice.

Ella smiled, possibly at Azrael's words, maybe at her appetite. "Conversations with you tend to involve that phrase," she observed. "I really can handle complicated, though."

Azrael shook her head. "Not like this." She flicked a glance at the plate in front of Ella; the tech caught the look and slid over the plate. Azrael murmured her thanks.

"Sometimes things seem complicated," Ella said, "but they aren't so bad when you talk them out with someone."

With another shake of her head, Azrael said, "Not this. I could actually use some advice about something else, though." When in doubt, try distraction.

Ella sat up attentively. "Of course!"

"My father wants me to do something, and I'm not sure it's a good idea." Azrael blinked, not entirely sure why those words had left her mouth. She took up the pizza Ella had put in front of her and started to eat, watching the tech.

Ella frowned thoughtfully. "What does he want you to do?" Seeing Azrael's brows lift, she asked, "What, surprised I didn't just tell you to do what your dad wants?"

Azrael pulled one of the sodas closer. "Kind of," she agreed, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "That does tend to be the response." She popped the soda's top and took a sip, then added, "I'm not actually sure what he wants me to do."

Ella took the other soda, querying, "How can you do it if you don't know what _it_ is?"

"That," Azrael said, "is an excellent question." She flicked a quick look skyward. _See?_

Ella smiled a little, but asked, "Why do you think it might not be a good idea, then?"

Azrael sighed. "It might hurt someone, but it might not. Since I'm not sure what I'm doing, I'm not sure what the impact will be. The last thing he wanted me to do ended up being helpful in the long run, even though it didn't seem like it at first. But it also... I don't know. I think Lucifer is kind of ambivalent about it."

"Ooh, ambivalent, nice word." Ella shook her head. "I don't guess you could be more specific, could you, chickie? I mean, hurting someone is definitely not a good thing, but if you're not sure, and the other thing was helpful..." Azrael shook her head, though not without an apologetic look, and Ella mused, "Chloe said something about your dad the last time we all went out."

Azrael sat up a little straighter. "She... what? What did she say?"

"Just that he was a manipulative di... guy, and that she was glad you and Lucifer got to spend time together." Ella smiled. "And so am I. He's been happier with you here."

Azrael stared at her empty paper plate. "You're working with incomplete information," she said quietly.

The girl looked up in time to catch Ella's puzzled smile. "So enlighten me, chickie."

"Fiat lux," Azrael murmured. Was it a sign from her father? Was she supposed to tell Ella? Knowing that she was here to serve her father's purpose had her questioning everything. She could hear Josh in the back of her head reminding her that not everything was a sign, but he spoke with their father on the regular; he didn't need signs, because the old man just told him what he wanted done. She imagined their conversation in the Silver City: their father telling Josh to convince her to go back to Lucifer, Josh agreeing like always. It wasn't going to work, though. She'd made her decision.

Trixie's words echoed in her mind: _"Don't you want to tell people, though?"_ Did she? If there was anyone she wanted to tell, it was Ella.

"I'm thinking about telling you something." Azrael look a deep, quivering breath, suddenly regretting that second slice of pizza. "There are a few people who already know, but you can't tell anyone else, okay?" she asked, her anxiety clear. "I mean, they probably wouldn't believe you, but you'd have to keep it to yourself."

Though she looked a little uncertain, Ella nodded. "Does your brother know?" she ventured, relaxing a bit when Azrael nodded. "Then my lips are sealed."

Azrael leaned back in her chair taking another deep breath. "Okay," she said. "I'm... not a little girl," she began. She struggled with what to say next, but Ella was already nodding.

"Now it's starting to make sense," she said, with an encouraging smile. "Lucifer said ages ago that you weren't happy with your body. Your outside doesn't match who you really are inside?"

Azrael peered at Ella in some puzzlement. "I... yes?"

"Hey, I'm so glad you felt comfortable telling me," Ella enthused. "My cousin Serena, she used to be my cousin Stephen. Some of my family kind of freaked out at first, but now it's like she's always been Serena. If you want to get in touch with her, I could -"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand. "Wait, that's not..."

But Ella was the verbal equivalent of a bulldozer. "And how great that you haven't hit puberty yet. I mean, you haven't, right? That'll simplify things if you decide -"

"That's not what I was trying to tell you, Ella," Azrael interrupted gently. "I'm not a little girl because I'm older than I look. A lot older."

Now it was Ella's turn to look puzzled. "Well, how old are you, chickie?"

Azrael shook her head. "I've kind of lost track, but... well, I remember when the first humans set foot on Earth. It was Adam and Eve," she added. At least she wasn't entirely destroying Ella's worldview.

Ella's puzzlement deepened, and then she said, "Are you playing along with Lucifer's whole 'I am the Devil' thing? Like you're a... junior devil or something?"

Azrael took a deep breath. This was her last chance to back out. She could say that she was playing along, or she could reveal herself.

Ella was her friend, right? Or was she? Could they really be friends while Azrael was hiding a secret of this magnitude? Then there was the guilt that only Ella, of the women's Tribe, was being kept in the dark.

There were some reasons not to tell. Lucifer would probably be fine with it, but Maze hadn't exactly taken the last revelation well. Then there was her father. She had managed a small rebellion with no real consequences that she knew of - yet - but this was... somewhat larger.

She told herself that she didn't care. For once she wanted to do something not because her father demanded it, or because of her job, or to placate a sibling. She wanted to do it because _she wanted_ it. She studied Ella, who was smiling.

"What, you _are_ a junior devil?"

Azrael chuckled weakly, sounding fake even to herself. "That depends on which of my siblings you ask... but, no, I fall more on the angelic end of the spectrum."

"Right," Ella agreed, playing along. "Because the Devil is a fallen angel, and you're his sister. Of course! That makes perfect sense."

Shaking her head, Azrael said, "I'm serious, Ella." While Ella regarded her in increasing concern, Azrael sighed and got to her feet. She pulled off her jacket, stepped into the middle of the room, and unfurled her wings.

Thirteen years of Catholic school took over. Ella crossed herself mechanically, her hand seeking her abuelita's cross as she murmured, "HailMaryfullofgrace..."

"She was nice," Azrael observed over the rest of Ella's muttered prayer, extending her wings a little. She'd had to keep them tucked away, and it was a relief to be able to stretch them. "Put up with a lot. Josh was kind of a handful when he was little."

Ella stared. "Josh as in your brother that Father Joe met today? As in the actual Jesus? Here?"

Azrael nodded. "I think Father Joe saw some of Josh's divinity," she said thoughtfully. "People with true vocations sometimes do."

"How do people with true vocations see you?" Ella asked quietly, unusually subdued.

Azrael smiled faintly. "They tend not to see me at all, when I have my powers. Not unless I will it, or unless..."

"Azrael," Ella realized. "The Angel of Death."

Azrael looked away. She didn't want to see fear on Ella's face. Nodding, she said, "Not just now, but up until quite recently, yes." She could hear Ella's chair scrape against the floor and waited for the sound of footsteps, or the door closing. When it didn't come, she turned to see Ella staring at her, her eyes wide.

"So it's all real?" The tech's voice shook just a little.

Azrael tucked away her wings, and some of the shock left Ella's expression. "Define 'all.'"

Ella took a deep breath. "Well, God?"

Azrael nodded, with a faintly wry smile. "Definitely real, yes." Her smile softening at Ella's expression, she stepped closer, saying gently, "But you knew that, right?"

"Well, there's knowing, and there's _knowing_." Frowning a little, Ella said, "Wait, so God is... your dad?" Azrael nodded. "The one that Chloe said was a manipulative..."

Azrael smiled a little. "Ella, I'm older than humanity. It really is okay to say 'dick' in front of me. You won't be teaching me anything I haven't already said in multiple languages."

"Okay," Ella said slowly, thinking through her words as she spoke. "But I'm more concerned about the 'manipulative' part of it. I mean, Chloe was pretty worked up."

Azrael pulled on her jacket sat down in a chair across the table, figuring that giving Ella a little space might not be a bad thing. "Well, he kind of is, but not for you guys - humanity, I mean. The whole free will thing." She knew that Chloe, if she were privy to the conversation, would rail at her to stop defending her father, but she knew she needed to go more gently with Ella. "And for my siblings and me, well... things just tend to work out the way he wants."

"And he's Lucifer's dad, too," Ella said, still speaking thoughtfully. She sat back in her chair, with a soft exhalation. "And Lucifer is..."

"Not a method actor, yeah," Azrael agreed, watching Ella carefully, and making a mental note to at least text Lucifer a warning. "Still the same guy you know, though, Ella."

Ella nodded slowly. "Yeah," she agreed distractedly.

Azrael let the silence lie for a moment, then asked, "You okay?"

Ella nodded. "So I'm friends with the Devil. Am I going to Hell?"

"No," Azrael replied promptly. "Though I would recommend that you not mention it at Confession. Father Joe couldn't handle it."

Ella managed a weak laugh. "Uh, no," she agreed, her smile fading as she thought about the situation.

"Seriously, though," Azrael said. "It's not like you even need to confess it. Without getting into my opinion on the whole concept of absolution, because this is definitely not the time and place, friendship is hardly a sin. Think about it: if anybody needs a friend, it's Lucifer. Of all of us, he's had it the worst." Ella didn't reply, her expression thoughtful, and Azrael asked, "Do you think he's evil?"

Looking shocked, Ella replied, "Of course not. I mean, he's helped us bring in so many criminals, and he's really insightful and funny and..." Her voice trailed off.

"But he's the Devil," Azrael prompted.

Immediately, Ella said, "That doesn't matter." Azrael looked at her, brows lifting, and Ella repeated slowly, "It... it doesn't matter." Smiling suddenly, she considered Azrael and then asked, "So that's why Lucifer thought it was so funny that you were in the Christmas play? Omygosh," she realized. "You - an actual angel - were the angel in the play. No wonder everybody loved it so much; people keep saying it was the best year ever, even with so many kids out with the flu. Hey, why didn't you use _your_ wings? They're way prettier than those fake ones.'

"Thanks," Azrael said, her lips curving just a bit. "I didn't want to attract too much attention. And, yes, Lucifer has kind of a warped sense of humor."

Laughing, Ella replied, "Of course he does! I mean, look who he is." She shook her head, then, adding, "This is really... really weird, Rae. But it's cool."

"So you're okay with all this?" Azrael asked, reaching past Ella to grab her soda.

Ella thought for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah," she decided. "I mean, I'm still taking it all in, and I've got about a million questions, but yeah."

"Well," Azrael replied amiably, "I'd be happy to answer what I can."

It took the tech a few moments to come up with her first question. "Which religion is the right one?" she asked finally.

Azrael considered her answer. "Now, Dad and I never discussed this - our conversations never really get very deep, when we talk - but I can tell you that we've got people of all faiths in the Silver City. I wouldn't worry too much about that one. Just do what works for you."

"The Silver City?" Ella echoed.

Azrael gestured skyward. "Upstairs. Heaven. Though it's not like you can just fly up and get there," she added. "Otherwise Dad would have stopped the space program before it started."

"Wait, can you fly?" Ella asked. At Azrael's nod, she beamed. "Okay, I have _got_ to see that."

"You and Trixie should form a club," Azrael observed, shaking her head.

Ella's brows lifted sharply. "Trixie knows? Chloe's little girl?"

Azrael nodded, though not without an embarrassed grimace. "After the play, I was in the bathroom, sulking a little over the fake wings, and I had my actual wings out, and they came in. And yet," she realized, shaking her head, "I didn't think to lock the door before I showed you."

"If it's any consolation, I don't think that door locks," Ella offered. "Was that why you were upset, after the play?"

Azrael nodded. "That was part of the reason, yes."

Ella laughed, a quiet, amused sound. "So you really weren't kidding when you said it was complicated."

"No. No, I was not."

Azrael lost track of how long they spoke and the questions she answered, but it was long enough that she started to think longingly of more pizza, or some sushi, or... her stomach rumbled loudly, interrupting Ella's question about miracles.

"Wow, sorry," Ella said. "We've been doing this for a while. I should let you get back to Lux."

Unthinking, Azrael replied, "I'm not living there any more."

"Lucifer kicked you out?" Ella replied, shocked. "That's awful. You'd think he, of all people -"

"No, no, it was my choice," Azrael corrected quickly. "Well, mostly. We're still not sure what Dad sent me to do, and living with Lucifer while I'm potentially messing with his life just seems wrong."

Ella didn't look entirely convinced, but asked, "Where are you staying?"

With a vague gesture toward the front of the church, Azrael replied, "There's a hotel down the street. Josh is going to help me check in, unless he's changed his mind about that. I'll stay there until I can find somewhere more permanent."

Ella shook her head, leaning forward earnestly in her seat. "I don't think you should that, chickie." She faltered a little, realizing that she was using an avian term of endearment for the once and future Angel of Death, but then continued steadfastly, "Come stay with me. My place is small - definitely not what you're used to - but wouldn't it be better to stay with someone who cares about you, instead of on your own?"

Azrael took a long drink of her soda; her voice was still husky when she spoke. "I really appreciate the offer, Ella, but -"

"Don't say no," Ella urged. "Come on, it'll be fun! Think of all the awful movies we can watch. Ha, though now I get some of the things you don't understand. Didn't watch a lot of TV - no kidding!"

Looking tempted, Azrael said, "In the interest of full disclosure, my father isn't exactly happy with me for leaving Lucifer's place. He wouldn't take it out on you - that's not his style - but you should know the situation."

Ella smiled. " _For I was hungry, and you gave me food to eat. I was thirsty, and you gave me drink. I was a stranger, and you took me in._ I'm two for three," she added, gesturing to the detritus of the meal. Azrael hesitated, and Ella urged, a note of affectionate teasing in her voice despite her earnestness, "Come on, I know you're not a stranger, but you have to admit that the situation is pretty strange."

Azrael said quietly, her voice thoughtful, " _Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me._ "

"Okay, I appreciate your knowledge of the Bible - another thing that suddenly makes a lot of sense," Ella added, with a grin, "But is that a yes?"

Azrael nodded, a slow smile crossing her face. "Yes," she agreed. "Thank you, Ella. This really means a lot to me. But I get the couch." Seeing Ella's incipient protest, she added, "It makes sense. I'm smaller. And, seriously, you won't go to Hell if I sleep on the couch."

That startled a laugh out of the woman. "In that case, okay." Ella got to her feet, gathering the trash and tucking it into the garbage can.

Azrael sent a quick text to Lucifer: _Showed Ella my wings; she's okay. Please let Mazikeen know. Staying at Ella's place for now._

After what seemed like an eternity but was really just a few moments, her phone dinged with Lucifer's reply. _Graduating to larger rebellions, I see. I'll tell Maze, but you owe me._ After a moment, another text came through. _Be careful. You're playing with fire._

Azrael grimaced at the first text, but sent a heart emoji in response to the second, getting to her feet and grabbing her backpack. "Ready when are."

Ella leaned in and wrapped her arms around Azrael, startling a small squeak out of the girl. "Thanks for telling me, Rae. It really means a lot."

* * *

Azrael told herself that it was charming that Ella hadn't taken down her Christmas decorations yet. Really, it was.

Drifting off, curled in a cozy nest on Ella's couch, she firmly told herself that the Weeping Angel on top of Ella's tree was not watching her, and that she was far too sleepy to, say, get up and throw a dishcloth over the Angel.

Of course, if she did that, she wouldn't be able to see it and that would be worse. Her eyes sank closed despite her efforts, and she fell asleep.

* * *

Azrael struggled awake and gasped, sitting up and trying to shake off the dream of sharp stone teeth and grasping stone fingers pulling at her shoulders. Still half-asleep, she realized that an actual arm supported her shoulders, and the hand untangling the blanket that trapped her arms was flesh, not stone.

"If this is dreaming, I think I'll give it a pass. Hold still; you've got yourself all tangled."

Trying to slow her galloping heart, Azrael agreed, "It's highly overrated." Realizing who was sitting on the couch with her, she stiffened. "You know, this thing where you show up when I'm sleeping is really inappropriate."

Michael, seeing her reaction, got up and moved to the chair. "I don't think you're in a place to lecture me, Azrael."

Disentangling herself from the blanket and raking a hand through her hair, Azrael asked, "Why are you here?"

"You know why." Michael started to put his feet up on the coffee table, then aborted the motion at the look of reproof from his sister.

"Is it to take me back?" Michael shook his head; Azrael stretched, then wrapped the blanket around herself. "Honestly, at this point it could be a couple different things." Her yawn was real, though her lack of concern was completely feigned.

Michael smirked. "Nice try. I know you're quaking in your boots over there."

Azrael considered one bare foot - Trixie had painted her toenails a festive, glittery pink, even getting most of the polish on the nails - and then looked up at her brother. "Is he angry with me?" She spoke evenly; while there was some boot-quaking going on, there was no need to confirm it. Not I front of Michael.

"What do you think?" Michael asked. "No proof of celestial beings, that's one of the big ones."

Irritated and trying to deny the nerves that suddenly seized her guts, Azrael demanded, her voice low in deference to Ella, "Did he even send you, or did you just show up on your own? It didn't work out well for you the last time you improvised, remember? He told me that he chastised you." Now, with her father not physically in the room, Azrael didn't hide her pleasure in her brother's misfortune.

"At least he bothered to do it in person," Michael retorted, getting to his feet.

Michael didn't loom as well as Amenadiel, Azrael observed as she looked up at her brother, but he knew the most tender parts of her psyche, and aimed his barbs accordingly. She drew herself up to respond in kind, but a voice interrupted her, startlingly loud.

"qaStaH nuq jay'!"

Realizing that Ella had somehow come unobserved into the room - unobserved by her, at least - had gotten that big, curved weapon off the wall, and was now aiming it at Michael, Azrael all but fell off the couch in her haste to put herself between Ella and her brother, hands lifted in a warding gesture. "Wait, no, it's okay!" Looking warily over for Michael's response, she was startled to see that his expression was one of bemusement and... admiration?

"What did she say?" Michael queried.

Looking baffled, Azrael replied, "I have no idea. I don't speak... um."

"Klingon," Ella supplied, still brandishing her weapon. "I asked what the... what's going on."

Stepping back a pace so that she could see both Ella and Michael, hands still lifted, Azrael explained, "This is my brother Michael, who really needs to learn about knocking instead of just showing up in someone's apartment. He's being kind of annoying, but he isn't an immediate threat."

Michael snorted at Azrael's words, but Ella's eyes widened a little as she realized just who she was threatening. She lowered the bat'leth and ducked briefly behind the couch, reappearing sans Klingon weapon. "Hi," she said, shoving her glasses back into place and then offering an awkward little wave. "I'm Ella. Nice to meet you. Big fan."

"Did you really come out here to defend my little sister from some unknown intruder?" Michael queried.

"Well, yeah," Ella replied, as if there could be no other answer to the question. "I mean, I know she's not really a little kid, but she's in a little kid's body. And she's my friend - I've got her back."

Azrael smiled fondly up at Ella, then turned to Michael, repeating a little smugly, "She's got my back."

"So I see," Michael replied. "It seems you've actually managed to engender some loyalty during your time here."

Azrael pursed her lips. "Well, gee, when you put it like that, you make it sound so dirty," she quipped.

Michael sighed in exasperation. "Really, Lucifer has been a bad influence on you, little sister." Turning back to Ella, he gestured toward the couch. "May I see the weapon?"

Ella beamed and ducked behind the couch, and then came around to offer it to Michael.

The angel hefted the bat'leth, but then studied it in puzzlement. "The edges aren't sharp, but it doesn't seem like it would work as a bludgeoning weapon."

Azrael sank back down onto the couch, looking between Ella and Michael. "What is happening?" she whispered, not sure if she should be amused or disturbed.

"Oh, no, it's just a replica," Ella explained. "They don't really make sharpened ones, and that probably wouldn't be a good idea for me anyway."

Azrael asked Michael, looking amused, "You want one of those, don't you?"

Michael pointedly ignored his sister, instead returning the bat'leth with a murmur of thanks. Ella tucked it behind the couch once more, then came around to sit next to Azrael as Michael returned to his chair.

Azrael gestured vaguely to her neck. "Michael, do you mind taking care of this for me?"

"I shouldn't," Michael began sternly, but seeing Ella's curious expression, he nodded and moved closer, resting a hand lightly on Azrael's neck.

Azrael saw a soft glow radiating from Michael's hand and looked up at him in amused disbelief. "You're seriously making a light shine? You show-off. There's not usually a light," she added to Ella.

"You are such a little -" Michael's gaze slid to Ella and he finished, "-sister." He removed his hand from Azrael's neck, revealed no trace of the wound.

"That is so cool," Ella enthused, leaning closer to look at Azrael's neck. She raised a hand to Michael, adding, "Nice work, dude!"

Michael shot Azrael a perplexed look, and she mimed a high-five; Michael lightly smacked Ella's hand, looking gratified when she grinned in response.

"This is fun and all," Azrael observed, amused, "But did you have a point to your visit, Michael?"

Azrael's brother focused on her again. "I did, but -" His gaze slid back to Ella, who was watching with far too bright a smile for that hour of the morning.

Biting back a yawn, Azrael suggested, "But you don't want to get all snarky in front of Ella?"

Michael glanced at Ella, then told Azrael, "I can do this another time. It's late; I didn't realize."

Ella said, "I can just..." she gestured back toward her room.

Azrael shook her head. "Not necessary. I don't really feel like a lecture just now." Turning back to Michael, she said, "Can just take it as read that you disagree with me and that you spoke to me sternly about what you perceive as my shortcomings?"

Michael glanced at Ella once more, then got to his feet. "I'll discuss this with you another time, Azrael."

Azrael sighed, anticipating the conversation to come, but Michael ignored her and continued, "It was meeting you, Ella."

"Same," Ella agreed, standing as well.

Michael started for the door, turned back to Azrael. "Nice jammies, by the way."

"Shut up," Azrael muttered, straightening her bright red shirt. "Wonder Woman is awesome. The movie is going to be amazing."

Ella shook her head, getting the bat'leth from behind the couch and returning it to its spot on the wall as Michael left; she chuckled as he closed the door behind him. "You know, seeing that actually made me feel better about all this. You guys are just like my brother Manny and me."

"Well, that makes me question your family dynamic," Azrael replied, amused, "I'm glad we could help. Did you realize who you were threatening?"

Ella shook her head, looking both proud and apprehensive. "Well, no. It could have been anyone. I just heard voices. Sorry I interrupted."

Azrael shook her head. "Please, don't be. I need to be more alert to deal with Michael. You should tell Luci the story, though, if you get a chance. He'll love it, especially the part where you threatened Michael."

Ella nodded, with a smile. "Good night, Rae."

"Good night, Ella."

Azrael settled back onto the couch, curling up with the blankets. Already drowsy, she addressed the ceiling. "What just happened, was that part of your plan? Because that was just weird."

She didn't receive an answer, nor did she expect one, but she woke refreshed the next morning despite her interrupted sleep, with vague memories of her dream of sunlight and the wind in her feathers.


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's note: Sorry this took so long. Life interfered, and then I got an idea I had to add.**

* * *

Ella Lopez had not always been a person who practiced her faith. Sure, she had believed as a child, had gone to Mass every Sunday and chapel at school, because that was what you did, if you were a member of her family. She drifted away from the church in high school, right around the time she started stealing cars. It took her abuelita's death to bring her back to the church, and now she had a comfortable relationship with the Big Guy; her faith was the foundation of her life.

That faith had taken a slightly different path recently, thanks to the revelation that her young friend Azrael was in fact an angel, older than humanity and until quite recently the Angel of Death. That this meant that Azrael's brother Lucifer was the Devil was something that Ella had taken in stride, and having the Archangel Michael show up in her living room was just a bonus.

She was pretty much fine with it all. Even when she had distanced herself from the church, some small part of her had still believed. She just, since she'd found out, had been having these _jolts_ , like when you startled awake in the middle of the night and had to check that you were not, in fact, about to fall off the bed. Only she was awake, and the feeling was that realization that it was all real. Knowing that in her heart was one thing; having the proof of it sleeping on her couch was quite another.

"The feeling will pass," Linda had said, when she, Ella, and Chloe had gone out for drinks; the Tribe was sans demon because Maze was off hunting a bail jumper, something that suddenly felt way more appropriate. Ella almost felt sorry for the demon's targets.

"When?" Chloe had asked, her smile disbelieving.

"Still waiting," Linda had admitted.

It had been several days since all that went down, and Ella had been first preparing for and then presenting at a forensic conference. Her panel - Full Yoga Massacre 2016 - had gone over well, but the conference had kept her out of the precinct, and she hadn't seen Lucifer since before the revelation. So it was with a certain sense of anticipation that she went to work on Monday.

Of course, Lucifer was out tracking down a witness with Chloe when Ella arrived. She performed her usual Monday-morning tasks automatically, thinking about the weekend as she did.

* * *

Sitting down at Mass on Sunday, Ella was a little uncertain what church would feel like now that she had actual proof that someone was really out there, but it wasn't really that different. She stood and knelt and prayed the same as she'd done every Sunday, and she felt the same certainty, the same warmth. Sure, the knowledge that the small being standing, kneeling, and praying next to her was an actual angel was a little disconcerting, but Azrael, too, prayed with the same intensity as always, stopping to light a candle on her way out, as had become her habit.

That gave Ella a moment's pause, and she almost asked Azrael about it - what would an angel need to bring before God? - but something about the troubled look on girl's face as she prayed changed Ella's mind. Instead, she lit a candle in solidarity, and offered Azrael a smile.

God was, in fact, causing her some angst. Well, not God so much as Lucifer and Azrael's father, who seemed profoundly unlike her God. Before, she hadn't questioned Him; she knew who He was, like she knew what sunlight was. He _was_. Questioning that didn't even occur to her. She was still turning what she'd learned about Him over in her head; she hadn't come to any conclusions. Ordinarily, this was the sort of question that she would take to Father Joe, or even to her priest back in Detroit, but that was clearly out of the question. Chloe had just expressed her opinion of His dickishness, though Linda was a little more sympathetic. This was definitely going to take some time.

Azrael hadn't glowed during Mass, she hadn't pulled out her wings out, and in general had just seemed like a regular, if somewhat serious and rather devout, tween.

"How do you act so normal?" Ella asked in the fellowship hall after the service had ended.

Azrael shrugged, replying, "What else can I do? Telling them who I am, even if they believed me... it wouldn't go well, not with that many people."

Of course then Mary Grace's kids spotted her - well, small Michael spotted her, and then Sarah saw her brother ensconced in Azrael's lap and whined until Azrael took pity on her mother and cuddled the baby, too. She then spent quite some time settling the argument of who could sit in her lap, as sharing was clearly not an option, nor was Michael's idea of sitting on Azrael's shoulders while his sister sat in her lap. A few more of the smaller members of the congregation clustered around Azrael, and she nodded, listening with amusement to tales of Pokémon Go and preschool drama.

Ella glanced away from the trio and caught sight of Jack watching Azrael with a rather wistful expression. Seeing her eyes on him him, Jack looked embarrassed and then started a loud conversation about baseball with another boy. Ella tried not to smile too obviously, but this, like everything, was colored by her new knowledge. Maybe she would have a word with Jack in private and try to find some gentle way of dissuading him... yeah, that would work, because feelings were always logical.

Finally, Mary Grace took pity on Azrael, scooped up the baby, and herded away Michael, though not before giving Azrael a hug and saying something that made the girl smile and shake her head as she replied.

"What was that about?" Ella queried as Azrael joined her.

Looking amused, Azrael said, "She wants me to babysit one day this week. She said," she added, a glint in her eyes, "that it doesn't matter that I'm only eleven, because I obviously have an old soul."

"If she only knew," Ella murmured, grinning.

"Right?"

Smiling, Ella asked, "So do you have Lucifer's whatsit, mojo, only with little kids?"

Azrael lifted her eyes skyward, though the gesture was amused, rather than exasperated. "Dad forfend. No, I think it was more a case of them wanting to see what Michael's fuss was about. I did have kind of a Pied Piper moment, though."

"Are you going to babysit for Mary Grace?" Ella queried, as the two if them made their farewells and headed out of the church.

With a shrug, Azrael replied, "Probably. The kids are cute, and I'm kind of at loose ends. I just need to figure out how to keep her from paying me." At Ella's curious look, she added, "They need the money more than I do." Looking back at the church, she asked Ella, a hint of concern in her expression, "Was it different? Now that you know?"

Ella slung an arm around Azrael's shoulders. "I always knew, chickie."

* * *

Glancing out of her lab, she saw Lucifer pass and pulled off her headphones before darting to the doorway and calling his name.

The Devil drew himself up and turned, his expression polite but his shoulders rather tense. "Yes, Miss Lopez?"

Ella seized Lucifer's arm and pulled him down the hallway and into the break room. Sparing a glance for Maze, who had her boots up on the table as she ate a pudding cup (clearly labeled 'Dan'), the tech stared up at Lucifer. He returned her intense gaze with increasing bemusement. His expression was the same, though neither of them would ever admit it, as the one his brother Michael had worn upon considering Ella.

"Are you quite well?" Lucifer asked, when it was clear that Ella wasn't going to speak. "Looking for horns, perhaps?"

Ella grinned suddenly. "No, Rae told me you don't have them. I asked," she admitted sheepishly. "Dude, I'm fine. I just can't believe..." Shaking her head, she opened her arms and hugged him tightly, somewhat to his dismay.

Maze snorted as Lucifer extracted himself from Ella's embrace. When the tech started toward her, Maze said firmly, "If you try that with me, you lose a kidney."

Changing direction so that she ended up in the chair next to Maze, Ella observed, brightly, "Well, technically you really only need one kidney, but I think I'd rather not risk it."

"Good call," Maze replied.

"Hey, is that Dan's pudding?" Ella asked.

With a shrug, Maze replied, "I'm replacing it."

Lucifer asked dryly, "With what?" and Maze smirked. Turning back to Ella, he asked, "So has your new knowledge inspired any burning questions?"

"Yeah," Ella replied, settling back in her chair. "What's the deal with you and pitchforks? They're everywhere - I mean, people hear 'the Devil' and they think pitchforks, but that doesn't seem very... you."

" _Thank_ you," Lucifer said, aggrieved. "Pitchforks are a complete misrepresentation of the Lucifer brand. I have never -" Maze cleared her throat, and Lucifer continued, "All right, _one_ time, but it was strictly for recreational purposes."

Ella looked askance at Maze, and the demon suggested, "Don't ask."

"Okay, then, not asking," Ella replied agreeably. "Rae answered the rest of my questions for now," she added to Lucifer, "but I'm sure more will come to me."

Lucifer finally came to sit at the table, took a breath, and then shook his head. He glanced briefly at Ella, then fidgeted with the contents of the table, rearranging the napkins and making a quiet huff of irritation.

Rolling her eyes, Maze informed Ella, "He wants to know how Tiny Death is doing, but he doesn't want to ask."

"Oh," Ella replied, smiling despite herself. "Tiny Death - that's funny. She's good, I guess. She's taken over the cooking, which I can't say I mind. Oh, and she wanted me to tell you what happened last week. I would have told you earlier, but what with the conference, I didn't see you." Seeing Lucifer's nod, she continued, "It must have been about three in the morning, the night that Rae came to stay with me, and I heard voices in the living room."

"Wait," Maze interrupted, looking far too pleased. "You've got TD sleeping on your _couch_? Ha."

"She said I wouldn't go to Hell," Ella replied, amused, though not without a look of confirmation to Lucifer.

"Certainly not," Lucifer agreed. "Please continue, Miss Lopez. Voices in the living room..."

Ella nodded and continued, "So I listened a minute, and it was Rae and a guy I didn't recognize, and he sounded a little annoyed. So I grabbed my bat'leth -" Here there was another pause for Ella to explain in detail just what a bat'leth was, and then to text Maze a few links to bat'leth craftspeople. Finally, with Lucifer all but twitching in impatient irritation, Ella continued, "- so I asked what was going on, all -" Here she sprang to her feet and brandished an imaginary bat'leth, somewhat to Lucifer's amusement. Maze, by this point, had stopped paying attention, her attention on tracking down a bat'leth of her own.

"Well? Who was it?" Lucifer queried, as Ella paused.

"Actually," Ella replied, moving back to her seat, "Your brother Michael."

Maze looked up from her phone, brows lifting. Lucifer recapped, tone rich with delighted incredulity, "You threatened my brother Michael, leader of the Angelic Hosts, with a... a fake television weapon? Sorry, replica," he corrected, at Ella's murmur. The tech nodded, and Lucifer looked utterly thrilled. "That is... that's just... I don't suppose you got a photo? I'd love to have _that_ on the Insta."

"Sorry, no," Ella replied, as Maze took her feet off the table; the demon was watching with profound amusement. "I wasn't entirely awake."

"Pity," Lucifer replied, though he still looked more entertained than anything else. He gave Ella a long look, then said, "You appear to be in the proper number of parts, so I assume he wasn't offended."

Looking between the former Lord of Hell and his demon, Ella said, "He was actually... kind of nice."

"Oh, no," Lucifer protested. "Don't tell me you actually _liked_ that tool." Ella looked a little uncomfortable, and Lucifer accused, "You did! Miss Lopez, _really_. I thought you had better judgment than that."

"But he healed Rae," Ella explained, enthusiasm bubbling up despite herself. "I mean, that cut on her neck just disappeared. It was amazing!"

"Yeah, he can heal minor injuries, but he's still a jerk," Maze observed, getting to her feet and leaving the empty pudding cup on the table, white labeled wrapper waving like a flag of challenge.

"But he seemed really nice," Ella protested. "And, well, he's an angel. That means he's good, right?"

Expression going stiff, Lucifer countered, "So I, as the Devil, must be evil?"

Ella faltered, looking thoughtful and maybe a little troubled. "Well, no. I mean, you're an amazing guy, Lucifer, and Maze... you're just awesome."

Maze looked smugly pleased at that; she caught Lucifer's eye, gestured to herself and mouthed _Awesome_ before slipping out of the room. He huffed in exasperation, shaking his head.

"Sorry," Ella continued, "I guess it makes sense that, if you guys rock - which you totally do - then angels aren't necessarily good. Huh." She frowned thoughtfully, adding, "This has been an interesting couple of days, spiritually."

"Try talking with Linda," Lucifer offered, with a wry smile. "She's good with existential crises."

Nodding, Ella agreed, "We got drinks the other night with Chloe, and tonight we're going to - hey, you should come!"

Shaking his head, Lucifer demurred, "I wouldn't want to intrude on girls' night."

"Dude," Ella chided. "You totally would." Lucifer smirked in acknowledgment, then Ella added, "Besides, it's not that. Trixie has, I guess, been nagging Rae to let her see her fly." She paused a moment, frowning over her pronouns, then added, "You know what I mean. And I want to see, too - I mean, _flying._ And Rae has some experiment she wants to try with Linda - nothing bad," she clarified, as Lucifer's brows rose sharply.

"I'm sure it's not," Lucifer agreed. "My sister just isn't really the experimental type, I thought."

Ella shrugged agreeably, but continued, "Chloe knows a place where there aren't likely to be any people, so Rae's going to show us tonight. You'll come, right?" When Lucifer hesitated, she encouraged, "I can tell you miss her, and she definitely misses you, too. I mean, she was singing moody songs while she was doing dishes last night, when she thought I wasn't listening, and she's generally been a little mopy."

Lucifer frowned a little. "That's not good. Has she been drinking?" He considered Ella's startled headshake, then advised, "I don't think she's figured out how much she can drink in that body, fair warning."

Nodding again, Ella said, "I'll keep an eye out - but will you come tonight? I think it would help."

Brows lowering, Lucifer mused, "I haven't seen her since she left, just texted. Well... text me the details. I'll think about it." And he would, though he had a more pressing issue to deal with first.

"No problem," Ella agreed, smiling. "Now, I'd better get back to it. I'm in the middle of analyzing this..."

But Lucifer wasn't listening. He nodded a farewell to Ella, then made his way into the men's room and locked the door behind him. He folded his hands and closed his eyes. He did not, it may be noted, bow his head.

It took several exasperating minutes, and a few attempts, but Michael finally appeared with a soft whoosh of air. "Charming," he murmured dryly, looking around the room.

"Wasn't sure you'd answer." Lucifer leaned casually with his back against the sink. "I hear you had an interesting encounter last week," he drawled. "Minor miracle in front of a human. Thought that was against the rules, hm?"

"She already knew about us, thanks to Azrael," Michael retorted. "It's not like a little healing was going to make a difference, and Azrael asked me to help."

"Right," Lucifer replied, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Because you're always so helpful, Mikey."

Michael brought his palm against the wall, the slapping sound echoing in the tiled room. "Michael," he corrected through clenched teeth. "And I _am_ helpful. Maybe you forgot that I'm the one who convinced our father to return Azrael's wings? Helpful, yes. Just not to you."

"Rude," Lucifer scoffed.

"Devil," Michael replied, with a gesture toward Lucifer.

Lucifer dismissed his brother's words with a wave of his hand, saying, "Your help in that instance was manipulative; don't think I don't know that. And what was the point of your little display for Miss Lopez, hmm? Showing off? Careful, _dear_ brother," he taunted. "Pride is one of mine. You wouldn't want to find yourself stuck here."

"I won't," Michael retorted, though Lucifer, watching intently despite his pose of studied indifference, caught his brother's flash of concern. "Father wouldn't..."

Lucifer idly considered his fingernails, absently running his thumb over the other four nails. "I thought that, once." He turned his gaze to his brother, opening his hand as if to say, _Look at me now._

"He wouldn't," Michael repeated, though with less certainly. "Besides," he added, with a hint of desperation, "The human said she was a fan. I had to do _something_."

"Miss Lopez," Lucifer said, with a slight emphasis on her name, "is a good person, Michael. She's not to be used as a pawn in one of your games - or of Dad's games." Brows lifting, he queried, "Has dear old Dad spoken with you since that incident? No?" He tsked softly. "Not a good sign. Best watch yourself."

Looking a little disconcerted, Michael said, "Azrael asked for my help and I gave it, Lucifer. That's all there was to it." Shaking his head, he added, "I don't have to listen to this."

Michael disappeared in a soft pop of air, and Lucifer smiled. "It always was easy to ruffle your feathers," he murmured, with a smug smile aimed skyward. Still, he felt reasonably sure that Ella wasn't being targeted; Michael had seemed too flustered for his words to be false. Whistling, Lucifer unlocked the door and set off in search of his detective.

* * *

Approaching her lab, Ella saw the dark-haired man in her space. He wasn't very tall, though he was taller than Ella. (Realistically, it didn't take much to be taller than Ella.) Moving to her doorway but not stepping through, Ella informed him, "You're not supposed to be here."

The man turned. He smiled warmly, and Ella reflexively returned the smile. "Hi, Ella," he said. "I'm Josh. Rae's brother - well, and Lucifer's. And I hear you met Michael, too."

"I... yes." Ella stepped into her lab and closed the door, eyes wide as she considered Josh.

Leaning against the lab bench, Josh said, "I wanted to come by and thank you for taking in Rae. She's been having a tough time and I'm sure it's really helping her to be with a friend, instead of alone in a hotel."

"You're welcome," Ella managed. She grinned then, adding, "And thanks right back at you for, you know, dying for humanity's sins." She paused a moment, then added, "You don't need to thank me, though. I like it that Rae is staying with me. She's great company."

"No need to thank me, either," Josh replied agreeably. With a smile, he added, "She is good company, isn't she? We spent Christmas together and really had a good day."

Suddenly curious, Ella asked, "So do you guys... hang out? Do Jesus and the Angel of Death sing karaoke together, that sort of thing? What did _you_ do on Christmas?"

Josh laughed, clearly entertained by the mental image, and shook his head. "No karaoke, though maybe someday. As for Christmas, we just relaxed. It's not really that big a day for me. We do try to spend time together, but, honestly, she worked most of the time before she came here."

With a glance at the case files on her lab bench, Ella nodded, sobering. "Lots of people die."

"Lots of people die," Josh echoed softly. "I'm glad she's getting this break, though. The job's a tough one, and she was getting a little... tightly wound."

Ella nodded, though she regarded Josh thoughtfully. "But I thought she was here to do something for... for your dad."

"She is," Josh agreed easily. "But that's not really going to take effort on her part. She'll do it naturally."

Ella hesitated, then offered, "Well, yeah, but she seems kind of worried about it."

Shaking his head, Josh replied reassuringly, "She shouldn't be. Rae can be a little high-strung sometimes, but all this will work out in the end."

"For who?" Ella asked quietly. Seeing Josh's puzzled expression, she clarified, "Work out well for who?"

Josh nodded, with a soft ah of understanding. I can't really go into the details," he admitted. "But Rae should have faith. It'll be okay."

Ella was hardly one to question the need for faith, especially when speaking to this of all beings. Still, a small part of her, remembering Azrael's troubled expression as she prayed, wanted to do just that. "I'll tell her that," she said slowly.

"Thanks," Josh replied, and Ella warmed at his smile despite herself. "Maybe it'll help coming from you." Suddenly the picture of an amused younger brother, Josh proclaimed, "Going up against Michael with the bat'leth, that was great. He really wants one, now."

"I can hook him up," Ella replied, though she had siblings enough to recognize a diversionary tactic when she saw one. Remembering Maze's similar request, she had a sudden mental image of the demon and the archangel squaring off with their bat'leths, and wasn't sure whether to be amused or concerned. Still, she added, "I've got some links I can text him."

Shaking his head, Josh said, "Michael doesn't have a phone, but you can send them to me and I'll take care of it. Belated Christmas gift, that sort of thing. Let me see your phone?"

Ella handed over her phone, and Josh put a number into her contacts and returned the phone. "Thanks," she said. "So now I have a direct line to, well, you?"

With a smile, Josh explained, "It only works when I'm on this plane. We have a different network in the Silver City." Ella looked hard at him, trying to find some hint that he was kidding, but Josh seemed quite sincere, adding, "It simplified Rae's life a lot when we went digital. Ask her sometime about the SIN - the soul identification number. I'm pretty sure she came up with that acronym after she'd been visiting Lucifer."

"You're kidding," Ella said, laughing. She glanced down at her phone to pass on the links about bat'leths, and saw that Josh had put his contact info under the name 'Josh' and that he'd added an angel emoji - like she'd forget! Out of nowhere, she had another of those _jolts_ : the reality of who she was talking to and what they were discussing struck her, and she leaned hard on the lab bench.

Josh, brows lowering in concern, scooted a stool closer to her, and Ella eased to a seat, with a murmur of thanks. "I'm sorry," Josh said, his expression regretful. "Was that too much knowledge? My family, we've put a lot on you."

"I'm glad, though," Ella replied. Seeing his puzzlement, she added, "Lucifer and Rae and Maze are my friends. Now that I know the whole story, I can be there for them. I mean, that's what friends do, right?"

"Right." Josh gently squeezed her shoulder, smiling, and Ella suddenly felt suffused with warmth and well-being. Seeing some of that reflected in her expression, Josh removed his hand, abashed. "Sorry. I don't usually..."

Josh drew himself upright, a gesture that tickled the back of Ella's mind. It took her a moment to realize that Lucifer had made that exact gesture when she'd first seen him that day. She decided to keep that to herself. "It's fine," she said, still not entirely sure what had happened.

Josh smiled, though not without a rueful shake of his head. "I'd better let you get back to work." Ella nodded, and Josh, after lifting his hand in farewell, stepped out of the lab.

Ella watched him leave, then exhaled a long, quiet breath. "Wow," she murmured. She stepped to look out the door; he had disappeared. "So saying the Nicene Creed might feel different, now." She moved back to her microscope, then, and pulled on her headphones. Existential crisis or no, there was still work to do.


	45. Chapter 45

**Author's note: Lots of media in this one. The hymn Azrael sings was adapted from the prayer of St. Francis, which does not seem to have been written by St. Francis. (Broadway fans will recognize it from Come From Away.) The NIN song is Hurt, but I do think Johnny Cash did it better. (Sorry.) The book is Cry, Heart, But Never Break by Glenn Ringtved, and I may have made an actual squeeing noise when I saw it in the library. (Fortunately, nobody else was there.) Both the chapter title and the first thing Lucifer says to Azrael are taken from Sarah Kay's poem Useless Bay, which is lovely. I recommend watching her perform it; check YouTube. I had Azrael's entrance envisioned before I heard the poem, though!**

* * *

Azrael was already in the kitchen when Ella returned home, and Ella had the thought that the apartment smelled heavenly before realizing that she now had a source to find out what exactly that really meant - well, several sources, really. This particular heavenly aroma involved chocolate and Ella wondered if there was chocolate in Heaven. Could it be Heaven if there was no chocolate?

Lately, her philosophical musings had become extremely specific.

Azrael was singing as she frosted cupcakes, one hand applying deft pressure to the piping bag.

 _Make me a channel of your peace_  
 _Where there's despair in life let me bring hope_  
 _Where there is darkness, only light_  
 _And where there's sadness ever joy_

Listening, Ella recognized the hymn the choir had sung the first week Azrael had come to St. Brennan's. The girl had a sweet voice, though it didn't hold the power of her brother's. Still, the notes were true, and the song itself was more cheerful than the Nine Inch Nails song she'd been singing before - or maybe it was the Johnny Cash cover, which Ella would never tell her brothers that she preferred.

The girl paused in her song to give the piping bag a twist, then picked up partway through the next line,

 _Grant that I may never seek_  
 _So much to be consoled as to console_  
 _To be understood as to understand_  
 _To be loved as to love with all my soul_

"Hey," Ella called from the doorway, and Azrael drew herself up sharply, then turned, with a quick smile. "That was nice." She hesitated, unsure whether to voice what she was thinking, then offered gently, remembering Azrael's troubled face as she'd prayed after Mass, "It's okay to want something for yourself."

Azrael silently turned that thought over in her head as she finished the final cupcake. "Yeah," she said finally. "It is, isn't it? Before I came to stay with Lucifer that... that never would have occurred to me. I pretty much lived the job." She smiled over at Ella as she began to pack up the cupcakes. "I do want things for myself," she added, her voice reflective. "I want to be restored to my powers, my body. When I've accomplished my task, I want to know that I haven't hurt my brother." Her smile widened a little and went sheepish. "I want a motorcycle."

"Those are good things to want," Ella agreed brightly. "I mean, maybe I'd go with a muscle car over a motorcycle, but still. And your brother, I think he gets that you don't want to hurt him."

Azrael nodded, her shoulders lifting in a small shrug. "I hope so." She set aside a pair of cupcakes, tucking them into a smaller box. "I do like that song, and I get the point it's trying to make, but it's a little extreme. I mean, _never_ to be consoled? If everyone did that, who exactly would we be consoling?"

Nodding Ella agreed, "Right? We all do a little of both. If we were always one way and not the other, it'd be unbalanced."

"It reminds me of this book Trixie showed me the last time I was over there," Azrael said slowly. "It was a kids' book, lovely pictures. These children, their grandmother was dying upstairs, and they didn't want Death to take her. So they kept him - of course, _him_ \- distracted by giving him coffee. That part," she added, with a grin, "Would have totally work, by the way, if people could have seen me." She visibly refocused herself away from the coffee and continued with the story, "They thought that Death could only take people at night, but he stopped drinking coffee just before dawn. They asked him not to take their grandmother, and he told this lovely story about how sorrow and grief couldn't exist without delight and joy, because he wanted them to understand that death is a part of life. And he didn't want them to be scared; I mean, he left his scythe outside when he went into the house. "

"He was compassionate," Ella offered, and Azrael nodded, her eyes lighting in approval.

"Exactly," the girl agreed. "That doesn't happen often, when humans talk about m- about Death. There's that Coleridge poem, and some other things, but usually it's all doom and gloom. But this book... Trixie was reading it to me, and a good thing she didn't ask me to read it. I never would have made it through the part..." She closed her eyes and quoted, " _Some people say Death's heart is as dead and black as a piece of coal, but that is not true. Beneath his inky cloak, Death's heart is as red as the most beautiful sunset and beats with a great love of life._ " She opened her eyes, her gaze distant.

"Of course it is, chickie," Ella said, coming into the kitchen. "Anybody who knows you knows that. Bet that's why Trixie showed you the book. But tell the truth -" Azrael looked over, curiously attentive, and Ella asked, too-seriously, "Do you really have a scythe?"

Azrael stared at the tech in surprise, then shook her head, her expression lightening with amusement. "Okay, have you ever held a scythe? I mean a real one, not those plastic ones you get at the Halloween store." Ella shook her head, and Azrael elaborated, "They're big, and heavy - well, not that heavy matters to an angel - and awkward. Despite that, I did try carrying one around for a little while - I thought it was funny, and they're actually kind of fun to swing. And it annoyed Michael, which was a bonus. Not that I ever, you know, poked him with it or anything," Azrael hastened to add, though the glint in her eyes suggested that Michael might tell a different story.

"Of course not," Ella agreed, chuckling. "So it's the same as Lucifer's pitchfork," Ella concluded, amused. "More of a story than anything else. A symbol."

Azrael nodded, noticing, though not commenting on, the way Ella's attention had sharpened just a little more at the mention of Michael. "Humans think poorly of us - though much more of him, unjustly - we both have our farm implements... no wonder we get along so well." She ducked her head. "Thanks, Ella. I was getting a little..." She looked up with a small headshake, not sure how to express it, then concluded, "A little too in my head. Guess I'm on edge about tonight."

Ella smiled and replied, "No need for thanks. But I'm here for you, Rae - always. And you'll be great tonight! Don't worry about it."

Azrael's answering smile was sweet and unfeigned. "Thank you. I know that, and if I ever think to doubt it, I'll just remember you facing down Michael with the bat'leth," she added, eyes glinting with just a hint of teasing.

Laughing, Ella replied, "I'm never going to live that down, am I? Your brother Josh stopped by the precinct today, and he mentioned it, even."

Azrael shook her head as Ella spoke, amused, but then sobered a little at the mention of her younger brother. "Did he ask you to try to convince me to go back with Lucifer? I won't. I've made my decision, and he should respect it. And he shouldn't be harassing you, that's not -"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down," Ella said, holding up her hands in a calming gesture. "He wasn't harassing me, and he didn't ask me to do anything. Matter of fact, he thanked me for letting you crash here, not that thanks are necessary."

"Oh." Azrael nodded, her expression sheepish. "Sorry. It's just that I know he thinks I should still be at Lux, and..." Her shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "Sorry," she repeated. "Are you okay?" she asked, then, her dark eyes concerned. "I mean, meeting..."

"My Lord and Savior?" Ella supplied, her brows lifting. Azrael shrugged, looking vaguely uncomfortable, and Ella replied, "I'm okay, pretty much. I mean, it's weird. I didn't expect him to... to show up at work and give me his cell phone number." Catching Azrael's startled expression, she explained, "I texted him some links to people who make bat'leths. For Michael."

Azrael pursed her lips. "You're getting a lot thrown at you," she said, looking troubled. "Are you sure...?"

Squaring her shoulders, Ella assured Azrael, "It's fine. I'm fine." Brows furrowing, she added, "I got a little... overwhelmed, and J-Josh put his hand on me and I felt better." She looked at Azrael, not sure how to proceed.

"Huh," Azrael said slowly. "Kind of a... laying on of hands? Don't use that phrase around Lucifer," she hastened to add, with a quick smile. "He'd turn it into porn, and you really don't want to go there."

"Not really," Ella agreed, though she was trying not to laugh at the thought.

Looking just a little disconcerted, Azrael said, "Josh does that sometimes. If it bugs you, let him know, and he'll knock it off. Or I can," she offered. "Again, no burning in Hell for asking the Son of God not to get handsy."

"He wasn't handsy," Ella protested, that laugh finally escaping. "He was being nice. It's fine. It felt good. And you don't have to keep warning me about Hell," she added, with a grin. "I think I've got a good handle on it."

"You do," Azrael agreed, inclining her head. "But these are kind of weird circumstances..." She shook her head, then, suggesting, "We should go meet the others, right? I mean, isn't it a ways out of the city?"

"We should go," Ella agreed, letting the topic drop. Seeing Azrael pick up the box of cupcakes, she asked, "Snacks for the trip?"

"What? Oh - no. Or, well, they can be, I guess, but I'd intended them as a bribe of sorts." Azrael pulled on her jacket - the one with the wings on the back - and added, "Trixie wants me to take her flying. I know she does. And it's just... I'm not strong enough, not in this body, and I don't want to risk anything happening to her. I think she understands, but I thought a little chocolate consolation might help."

"Chocolate Consolation," Ella announced broadly. "That's the name of my new band!"

"What happened to Completely Irrelevant Baby?" Azrael queried, amused.

"Oh, we broke up. Creative differences. Hey, nice jacket!"

"Thanks," Azrael replied. A glint in her eyes, she added, "Michael gave it to me."

Ella didn't say anything as the pair left the apartment, but she smiled.

* * *

Lucifer stood in the doorway to the room that had been his sister's. He'd been avoiding it, and hadn't realized that she'd cleared out the last of her belongings when he'd been away from the penthouse. He sighed, and a familiar voice came from the entrance to the hallway.

"I knew you would do this." Maze stood in the hallway, arms folded over her chest. "I saw that look when Ella mentioned your sister. Come on. Let's go downstairs, have some fun. Maybe bring the party back here. It's early, but I'm sure we can still raise some Hell."

Lucifer shook his head, though not without a dry smile for his demon's turn of phrase. "Not tonight."

Irritated, Maze replied, "You're sulking. I can't believe you're sulking over this."

"The Devil doesn't sulk," Lucifer replied, one must admit, sulkily.

"Lucifer, this is a _good thing_ ," Maze insisted. Ignoring Lucifer's dubious expression, she continued, "She's standing up to your dad. I mean, maybe she took it a little far with letting Ella in on everything, but she's being her own angel."

Lucifer leaned against the doorjamb. "Yes," he allowed. "She is, and I suppose that's good."

" _Suppose_?" Maze made a wry face. "How long's it been since any of those rejects you call siblings took your side for a change?"

"Millenia," Lucifer admitted. "And it was Rae, and she was _punished_ for it, Maze. Part of this - all right, this sulking is that I miss her, yes, but part of it is that I'm concerned for her. At some point she will have to answer to our father and I don't want her to suffer on my account." He finally turned to face Maze, his dark eyes troubled.

The demon wasn't impressed. "Even though she looks like a little human, she's grown, and she's dealt with your dad a lot more than you have over all those years. She knows what she's getting herself into. Don't try to unmake her decision."

"I haven't," Lucifer retorted. "And I won't."

"Good," Maze said tersely. She smiled. "Now let's go party. You wouldn't believe the ass on this guy I saw on my way through Lux." She turned to go back through the penthouse, but Lucifer didn't follow. She sighed, a drawn-out, exasperated sound. " _What_?"

"Miss Lopez informed me that my sister was doing a flight demonstration tonight. She thinks I should attend." Lucifer spoke stiffly, and Maze could tell that he wanted to go. If she was being honest with herself, Maze wouldn't mind seeing it, too.

The demon echoed, tone disbelieving, "A flight demonstration? Is your sister _trying_ to piss off Daddy?" Still, she smiled, after a quick glance to be sure that Lucifer wasn't looking.

"I believe the Detective found an out-of-the-way spot for the endeavor, so they shouldn't be observed." Brows furrowing, he added, "Miss Lopez said that Rae's planning an experiment with Doctor Linda."

"What?" The smile dropped from Maze's face. "Where is this happening?"

Lucifer looked over to Maze, brows lifting. "Surely you don't think that Azrael would hurt Doctor Linda."

Maze hesitated. Probably not, but she didn't want to admit that. "I don't want to risk it. Not with Linda. Let's go." When Lucifer didn't move, she urged, " _Lucifer_ ," and he nodded.

"Fine, but I'm driving." He took one more look into the room that had been his sister's, then closed the door firmly.

* * *

Lucifer drove fast, of course, but was still not going quickly enough for Maze. By the time he reached the out-of-the-way spot where the group had gathered, she was all but frantic, her mind having come up with far too many scenarios. Chloe wouldn't let anything bad happen, she knew, and Lucifer's sister wasn't so stupid as to try something, not with the first of Mazikeen's friends who wasn't an elementary schooler. Still, she didn't bother to wait for Lucifer to bring the car to a stop, but instead vaulted over the door and rushed to the therapist's side.

"What's the matter?" Linda asked, startled by the demon's manner.

"Where is she?" Maze demanded. "How did she experiment on you?"

Trixie, all but beside herself with excitement (and chocolate cupcakes; Chloe vowed to have a word later with Azrael about moderation) bounced over to the demon. "Maze! Did you come to see Rae fly? She's going up there so she can get a good start." The child indicated a nearby hill. "You can't see her because she's behind those trees."

"I'm fine," Linda reassured, resting a hand lightly on the demon's arm. "She just wanted to see if I could see her wings while she -" She hesitated, not sure how to explain it.

"While she had her cloaking device on," Ella supplied, with a grin. "It was weird - everybody but Linda could see, I guess because we'd already seen them."

"Oh." Maze looked back toward the car, making a wry face as Lucifer approached, his expression a little smug.

"See? I told you she wouldn't - ugh, child, is this really necessary?"

For, of course, Trixie had thrown herself at him, with a delighted cry of, "Lucifer!"

Trixie just grinned up at him, then dashed back to her mother, leaving Lucifer to lament the chocolate smudges on his suit.

At that moment, Azrael came into view. She stood at the top of the hill - not a mountain by any stretch of the imagination, but high enough to give her a decent start - and unfurled her wings. The sun had nearly set, and the warm light turned her pale gray wings to rose gold.

Lucifer, watching her, exhaled a barely audible sigh, quiet enough that no one should've heard. After a moment, he felt warm fingers curl around his wrist, and looked down to see Maze.

The demon didn't say anything, but she didn't need to, not after all these years. They'd already said the words, and neither of them wanted to go back to those awful moments on the beach when she'd cut off his wings, full of blood and pain, sweating and swearing. Lucifer felt a pang in his back, and almost, almost he could feel the weight of his wings, the breeze in his feathers, the anticipation of a flight.

That hadn't happened in a while.

"Why isn't she flying?" Trixie asked, bouncing in place with impatience. "Doesn't she have her happy thought?"

Chloe murmured, "I don't think it works that way for angels, Monkey," and Trixie nodded, her eyes on her friend.

Ella didn't say anything, but looked almost as excited as the child, while Linda and Chloe watched with a little more concern.

Lucifer turned his gaze to his sister, saw the tightness of her mouth and the way one hand clenched her jacket cuff. Had she flown since the accident? Likely not. When would she have had the chance, worried as she was about inadvertently revealing herself? Suddenly he remembered how scared she had looked when Josh had brought her back to the penthouse, the death grip she'd had on their brother.

Azrael was overthinking the situation; it was obvious, at least to him. She couldn't take that last step and was, of course, wrapping it up as another thing gone wrong, another failure. He stepped closer, not that the small distance made a difference, and felt Maze's fingers slip from his wrist.

Azrael had to do this, he knew. Not getting back on the horse after a fall, well, he could speak to that, and the longer she waited, the worse it would be. Pitching his voice to carry to her, he called, "This is not a metaphor!"

Azrael startled, though not enough to lose her balance and slip; Lucifer would have seen the irony, but he never would have heard the end of it. She lifted a hand to shade her eyes, squinting down at the group. Her gaze landing on Lucifer, she stood a little straighter, a certain tension leaving her body.

"Come on, Rae," Ella urged softly. Lucifer doubted she even realized that she was speaking. "You've got this."

Azrael hadn't taken her eyes off Lucifer. He extended a hand toward her: _Come on._

In one sharp, impatient gesture, Azrael pulled out her ponytail holder, releasing her hair to fly behind her in a sudden gust of wind. She rocked back and forth in place for a step, then ran off the edge of the hill.

She flew. She flew, and Lucifer had to admit that she was glorious. The last time he'd seen her fly, he'd still been living in the Silver City, and she'd been good then. Now, even with the restrictions of her mortal body, she amazed him with her skill. She rode the air currents expertly for a time, clearly reveling in her flight. Eventually, she turned on a wingtip, then zoomed low over the watchers' heads. The wind of her passage ruffled their hair, to Trixie and Ella's audible delight.

"Show-off," Maze shouted, though Azrael likely didn't hear. Lucifer remembered how the wind would sing in his ears, deafening him to all else. That had been a mercy, especially during those last days in the Silver City.

Lucifer turned his gaze to his friends, though they were all watching his sister. Maze had moved back to stand next to Linda, who was full of wonder as her gaze followed Azrael. Trixie was bouncing in place, clapping and chanting, "Go, Rae! Go, Rae!" Chloe, standing behind her, rested her hands on her daughter's shoulders, her expression fond. Ella turned in place as Azrael passed, murmuring under her breath about drag and lift and Bernoulli's principle. Then Azrael must have performed some particularly spectacular feat, as the tech let out a delighted whoop, echoed after a moment by Trixie.

The group looked toward Lucifer, and he peered back, puzzled. "Turn around," Chloe said urgently, and he whirled in place barely in time to see Azrael land just in front of him. Momentum - or perhaps not - carried her the last few steps to him, and she hit him hard, even knocking him back a step. Her arms locked behind his back and her wings enveloped them both; after a moment, he hugged her in return, running a hand lightly over her back.

Her feathers brushed lightly against his cheek, and he closed his eyes for just a moment. "You need to work on your landings," he murmured into her hair, and he felt her shake with silent laughter, or perhaps not laughter. She looked up at him, then, and he could see that she, not unlike himself, was caught in that space between laughter and tears. "Well done, little sister," he whispered, and she hugged him a little more tightly.

"It was an okay flight," Azrael agreed modestly, easing back after a moment, her feathers lightly brushing him as she stepped away. "A little showy, maybe, but that was kind of the point."

Lucifer rested his hands on her shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze. "Wasn't talking about the flight." He smiled, then, tipping his head toward the others. "Go on," he teased. "Go greet your adoring fans. We'll talk later."

Azrael ducked her head, then smiled up at her brother. "I'd like that." She turned, then recoiled when she encountered Maze directly in her path, her wings mantling. She shot an accusatory look over her shoulder, her wing flicking so she could see her brother, and muttered, "You could have warned me."

"Where's the fun in that?" Lucifer replied cheerfully.

Azrael rolled her eyes and turned back to the demon, asking warily, "Need something, Mazikeen?"

The demon folded her arms over her chest and asked, "You planning on letting anyone else in on the secret?"

"No." Azrael shrugged, then, admitting, "Though none of my revelations were actually planned. With Trixie and Chloe, it was unintentional, and it was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing with Ella." She hesitated, then offered, "Sometimes things happen for a reason."

Maze gave the angel a level look, then drawled, "And sometimes the reason is that you're stupid and make bad choices."

Azrael's face went carefully blank, but her wings gave her away: they flared wide, and the conversation from the other group suddenly went quiet, all eyes turning to the demon and the angel.

Maze continued, unfazed, "Next time you feel like flipping Daddy the bird, find some way that doesn't involve me."

"I'm not flipping -" Azrael began, her wings settling against her back, but Maze snorted, not letting her finish.

"Sure, you're not, TD," the demon scoffed. "You keep telling yourself that."

Azrael, after a brief silence, said stiffly, "I will endeavor not to involve you further in any... bird-flipping, Mazikeen."

"Good." Maze paused, then added, "I got us some mat time tomorrow at ten." Seeing Azrael's hesitancy, she unbent enough to say, "No knives."

Azrael nodded after a moment, taking it for the peace offering it was - trust Maze to use violence as an olive branch. "I'll be there," she said seriously, before moving past the demon to greet the others, who had been waiting with varying degrees of patience.

Maze, rather than joining the crowd, moved to Lucifer's side. She didn't speak, though her brows lifted in inquiry.

"I don't miss them," Lucifer said, replying to the question she hadn't asked, though his gaze was still on his sister's wings.

"Of course not," Maze replied blandly.

"Don't you worry that you'll push her too far, one of these days?" Lucifer queried, though his tone was curious rather than judgmental.

Maze shrugged. "I'm not scared of Tiny Death."

"Nor should you be," Lucifer agreed easily. "But what happens when she's been restored and isn't Fun Size anymore?"

Maze's eyes lit, and Lucifer anticipated further nicknames for his sister, though the demon asserted, "I'm not scared of that Death, either. I could take her just fine, back in Hell."

"Right," Lucifer agreed. "Back in Hell. You've only ever encountered her as the actual Angel of Death back in my domain, where she refused to bring her Blade and generally kept a low profile out of courtesy to me. Just... consider that she's not a good enemy to have."

Maze made a quiet, derisive sound and didn't reply, though her assessing gaze followed the angel.

Trixie, finally released by her mother, dashed to meet Azrael. She seized her friend's hands and whirled her in a wild circle, ring-around-the-rosie on steroids. "That was so cool!" she exclaimed. "It looked fun! Was it fun?"

"Yes, yes," Azrael replied, laughing, "But stop spinning, please, before I throw up."

"You know," Chloe observed dryly as Trixie subsided, though the little girl still maintained her grip on one of Azrael's hands, swinging it back and forth, "She probably wouldn't be doing that if she hadn't had * _four cupcakes_ * in the car."

Azrael just asked innocently, "Aren't you dropping her off at Dan's tonight?" She smiled thinly as she heard a sound of approval from Maze's general direction.

Still swinging Azrael's hand, Trixie asked, "You can fly like you did with no problem, but a little spinning makes you sick?"

Azrael nodded, with a small shrug. "When I'm flying, I'm in control. That makes a big difference, being able to direct where I'm going."

"Now, that's a metaphor," Lucifer quipped.

Azrael shot her brother an understanding look, her answering smile a little wry. "Tell me about it."

"Okay," Ella said, finally breaking away from her discussion with Linda to approach Azrael. "That was _amazing_ , chickie. I almost took my phone out to get some video for later, but then I thought, yeah, maybe not."

"Definitely not," Azrael agreed. "Showing is one thing, but video proof... no. Not a good idea."

"People would think it was fake," Trixie observed brightly. "Special effects."

Azrael shook her head. "I'm still not willing to risk it."

"Anyway," Ella continued, "That was totally amazeballs, and any time you want to do that again, let me know. I'd love to see how fast you can go." She grinned at Trixie's enthusiastic nodding, and added, with a nod toward Linda, "We decided that you're going to ride back with Lucifer and Maze is going to come with us, so you guys can catch up."

Brows lifting, Azrael looked over to Lucifer and Maze, but the demon seemed on board with the change. "But I thought..."

"Want to see Dad laugh?" Lucifer suggested dryly. "Make a plan." Azrael chuckled, and Lucifer waved her over. "Come on, little sister. They've already decided the course of your life, at least for the next hour or so. Might as well roll with it."

"At least I can guess at their motivation." Azrael made her farewells, scooped up her bag, and moved to stand by the Corvette. She gave her wings one final stretch, then tucked them away before climbing into the car. She pulled on her seat belt, sliding the buckle home with a click.

Lucifer looked over at the sound as he started down the road. "Questioning my driving abilities?"

Azrael shrugged, though not without a quick smile. "I was more likely to end up at a car accident when the humans weren't wearing their seat belts. It's nothing on you. I just don't necessarily trust the other drivers."

Lucifer nodded agreeably, though he revved the car and gunned down the road. Azrael didn't bother to hold back her laughter; she did bundle her hair back into a ponytail, keeping it out of her face.

They rode in silence for the first several minutes. "So," Lucifer said finally. "You looked good up there."

"Thanks," Azrael replied, her voice just loud enough to be heard over the noise of the car. "It felt good - really good." She was quiet a moment, then added, "If not for you, I'd probably still be standing on that hill. So thanks for that."

"Had a bit of a moment up there?" Lucifer queried lightly.

Azrael nodded, then, upon realizing that her brother was actually watching the road and not her, made a wry face and said, "Yes. I remembered... what happened out east. Falling." She paused, then added grimly, "Landing. I'd forgotten, blocked it out, I guess. And then, standing there, I remembered, and I just couldn't move."

"And then you got yourself all twisted up," Lucifer concluded, with a quick, knowing look.

Azrael nodded. "All of them watching," she agreed. "Trixie. She's been wanting this since she saw my wings, and I really didn't want to let her down. So thanks." She hesitated, then asked a question she'd been avoiding for millenia. "Do you remember? When you..." She couldn't finish, but her hesitation made the topic clear: his own fall.

Lucifer didn't answer. He didn't want to tell her, if he was honest with himself. Despite what Linda said, he tried to be honest with himself, and usually succeeded. But he knew what Azrael's response was likely to be.

"Never mind," Azrael said, when the silence had stretched too long. "Sorry. Forget I asked."

"No," Lucifer replied. "It's all right." He was quiet a moment longer, then said softly, "I remember it all. Every moment."

Azrael's breath caught. "Oh, Lucifer. I'm -"

And there it was. "No," Lucifer repeated crisply. "No pity, little sister. The Devil doesn't need pity."

"Maybe you don't need it," Azrael replied, turning to sit sideways in her seat, the better to watch her brother. "But you deserve - you deserve a little sympathy. You don't need to push me away, Luci. I'm not, I don't know, storing what you say to use against you later. I'm not Michael."

Lucifer exhaled a sigh, one hand tapping against the steering wheel in absent agitation. "I know you're not. I do. And I'm not pushing you away, little sister, I swear." He looked away from the road long enough to flash her a smile. "Devil's honor."

"Which means something," Azrael acknowledged, inclining her head with a smile.

Lucifer was silent for a moment, then admitted, "It's odd, not having you around. Much less going on in the chocolate cake department, I must say."

Azrael smiled. "I miss you, too. Ella's great - really much more insightful than I was expecting, no offense intended to her - but it's not the same. And, well, I can bring you cake, easy enough."

"Well, we shouldn't drift apart. Texting just isn't cutting it, honestly." Lucifer smiled. "Let's get dinner soon. How's the day after tomorrow?"

Azrael nodded, but then made a face, exhaling a soft sigh. "I want to get together, but I'm busy that night."

"You've got plans?" Lucifer queried, sounding more intrigued than upset by her refusal. "Whatever are you doing? Movie night with Miss Lopez?" When Azrael mumbled a response, he prompted, "Sing out, Louise."

Azrael smiled briefly. Looking a little embarrassed, but still resolute, she explained, "I'm babysitting for a family from St. Brennan's."

It was fortunate for them both that they were at a stoplight, as Lucifer likely would have caused a vehicular incident in his shock, were he still driving. "Azrael, tell me you're joking." When she kept silent, he asked, tone disbelieving, "But _why_ , Rae? Interacting with them on purpose? And without their parents, so you can't just... leave?"

"I'm trying to make myself useful while I'm here," Azrael explained, though she studied the dashboard as she spoke. "Not to curry favor with Dad, or anything like that - just to... make things better. And Mary Grace and Andrew haven't been out without the kids since before Sarah was born. It'll do them good." She risked a glance at her brother. Seeing that his expression was free of mockery, she added, "It's just a small thing, but I want to do it."

Lucifer considered his response, then said lightly, "Well, that's... nice of you." Catching the edge of Azrael's dubious look as he eased back into traffic, he clarified, "No, really. I mean, nice isn't exactly my thing, but it's not _bad_."

"Well, no," Azrael agreed. "I mean, 'nice,' by definition isn't..." She shook her head, dismissing the linguistic train of thought. "But don't sell yourself short, brother. You're not without a certain niceness, yourself."

"Now, take that back," Lucifer protested, a note of teasing in his voice.

"Never!" Azrael replied, laughing.

Shaking his head, Lucifer grumbled good-naturedly, "Next you'll be comparing me to Michael."

"Never," Azrael repeated quietly, though this time her voice rang with sincerity. "Michael never would have helped me the way you have, and not just tonight. There's no comparison. Thank you for that, brother."

Lucifer was quiet for a moment - concentrating on driving, of course. "Well. You're welcome, of course. Anything to thumb my nose at dear old Dad." He cleared his throat, then continued, "Speaking of our beloved brother, though, I want you to tell me every single detail of your encounter with him in Miss Lopez's living room."

Azrael gave him a long, level look, enough to let him know that she had taken note of the distraction and wasn't fooled by it. Still, the topic was too amusing to let go. "Oh, Luci," she began, her voice brimming with laughter. "He was being a jerk, and then Ella came out with this... this fake weapon, and she yelled at him in Klingon of all things and..." She sighed, but it was clearly a happy sound. "I wish you could have seen his face."

"Oh, me, too," Lucifer agreed. "Though I put the fear of Dad into poor Mikey this afternoon, and that was a pretty fun face, as well."

"Fear of Dad?" Azrael echoed, her interest obvious.

With a vague gesture in the general direction of her neck, Lucifer elaborated, "Miss Lopez said he healed you. That's a miracle right there, and I doubt dear old Dad approved of Miss Lopez witnessing it. I'm surprised goody-two-shoes Mikey did it, to be honest."

Leaning back against the car door, Azrael said tentatively, "Well, it wasn't a big healing, and it's not like Ella didn't know about us already, but - oh, Luci, he made his hand glow while he was doing it." Azrael chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. "He put on a show for her. I honestly don't know what he was thinking."

"You didn't let him get away with that, did you?" Lucifer queried, though not without a laugh of his own.

"Of course not," Azrael replied. "I'm a little sister. There are rules." She thought for a moment, then observed, "Actually, I probably invented the rules, as few girls as there are in the lot of us."

Lucifer agreed, "Dad does tend to shoot boys," he observed, lifting a hand from the steering wheel to gesture at his lap. The gesture, Azrael reflected, was mercifully vague.

"Ew. There's a mental image I did not need. Thanks for that."

"Oh," Lucifer replied, his tone all innocence. "There are rules for older brothers, too, didn't you know? As for why Michael was putting on a show for Miss Lopez, he said she was a fan," Lucifer offered. "Though he didn't bother to call her by name."

"You know how he can be about humans," Azrael observed, with a small shrug. She added, "She said she was. A fan, I mean. You know, Catholicism. Or maybe you don't," she amended. "I mean, I've kind of kept tabs to see what they did with what Josh told them, but you don't have any reason to... wait." Azrael made a strangled sort of gasp, realizing, "He was trying to impress her. Michael! Ella!"

"Verbs help, when you're speaking," Lucifer said, amused.

"And I think she likes him," Azrael continued, still sounding a little shocked. "I mean, I don't know if she _likes_ him likes him, or if it's more of a 'hey, you're one of the foundations of my religion' sort of likes."

Stopping at a red light, Lucifer gave his sister an amused look. "You know you're not really eleven, yes? And whether she _likes_ him likes him doesn't matter. You know how Michael is."

Azrael shook her head. "You didn't see them bonding over that... whatsit, bat'leth. You know how Michael feels about bladed weapons."

"What a lovely foundation for a relationship," Lucifer observed dryly. "If that were all it took, he and Maze would have a houseful of offspring by now." He grinned at Azrael's horrified expression, then added, "I don't know that anything will come of it, but keep an eye on Miss Lopez, would you?"

Azrael nodded agreeably. "Glad to, though I'm pretty sure Ella can take care of herself. Hey, does that count as that favor I owe you?"

"In exchange for telling my demon that you outed her yet again?" Lucifer smirked, exhaling a quiet huff of amusement. "Hardly."

Looking askance at her brother, Azrael queried warily, "Was she angry? Seeing as how she's likely going to mop the floor with me tomorrow, it's best to know."

"Not angry," Lucifer replied thoughtfully. "Annoyed." He paused, then admitted, "I think she was a little pleased, actually. She likes the idea of you rebelling against Dad."

"I wasn't -" Azrael began. Seeing Lucifer's amused look, she amended, "Not intentionally, at least. It really was kind of an impulse move." Brightening, she added, "But if it wasn't a big deal for Mazikeen, then I shouldn't owe you a favor."

Lucifer pulled to a stop before Ella's apartment. "No reneging on our deal, little sister," he chided. "Just because she took the news well doesn't negate the fact that I was the one who had to break it."

Azrael studied Lucifer, then accused, "You like it that I owe you a favor."

"Guilty as charged," Lucifer admitted, with a quick, easy smile.

Azrael exhaled a sigh. "But why, Luci? It's not like I need to owe you. If you need me to do something," she added earnestly, "I'll do it, if I can. No favors required. You know that, right?" Lucifer hesitated, and Azrael pressed gently, "Luci?"

Lucifer, after a long moment of silence, said finally, "If I could believe that of any of my siblings, it would be you."

"Well, then, if it matters..." Azrael pursed her lips, then rummaged in her backpack for a notebook and a pen. As Lucifer watched quizzically, she wrote, pausing midway to consider her words. Looking up, her smile a little self-conscious, she read aloud, "I, Azrael, Angel of Death that was, do hereby swear, avow, and affirm that I owe my brother, Lucifer Morningstar, a Really Big Favor, payable at the time of his choosing. I would do this favor out of love, even if there were no obligation." She signed the paper with a flourish, then offered it to her brother. "I'd sign in blood," she added with a faintly teasing smile. "But I don't really feel like opening a vein."

Lucifer took the paper and scanned the writing, his lips curving in a small smile. "That's hardly necessary," he replied softly. He read the words once more, then carefully folded the paper in thirds and tucked it into his breast pocket. He patted the pocket, as if to assure himself of its contents, then looked over to Azrael with a smile. "Thank you, though."

Azrael ducked her head briefly, then straightened and returned the smile. "Can we do dinner tomorrow, instead of the day after? That Thai place, maybe?"

"Of course." Lucifer smiled, though he looked back as headlights indicated a vehicle pulling in behind them. Recognizing Chloe's car, he suggested, "In you get, before Beatrice comes in here looking for you. Did you really give her four cupcakes?"

"No." Azrael grinned brightly. "I gave her six."

Lucifer smirked. "Poor Daniel."

Azrael unbuckled her seat belt, then leaned in to hug her brother. "Good night, Luci. See you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow, yes," Lucifer replied, holding her close for a moment. One hand absently resting on that breast pocket, he watched her and Ella make their way into the apartment; he smiled when she paused to wave before going inside, lifting his hand in return.

Lucifer started the car, looking at the stars for a moment before heading back to Lux. "Whatever you're plotting, old man, just... leave her out of it." He eased onto the road and added, very quietly, "Please."

* * *

 **Author's note: I apologize in advance for the probable delay in the next chapter, though at least the reason (a family vacation) is a good one.**


	46. Chapter 46

Azrael settled into a seat outside the Beelzebean nearest the precinct, having caught a ride with Ella. She took a sip of her coffee and then tucked her earbuds into her ears, turning on her phone's Girl Power playlist. The weather was a little chilly, but the warmth of the sun on her face reminded her of the flying dreams she kept having. She told herself that she would just sit there for a few minutes, but she found herself letting the song lyrics wash over her, absently watching people hurry past, sipping her coffee. It was probably the coffee that kept her there, she told herself; she wanted to finish it before she left, as walking while drinking was awkward. Still, she remained even when her cup was empty, her chin tucked in her hand.

Azrael drummed her fingers on the table in time to the song's piano line, regretting that the daycare that used St. Brennan's during the week prevented her from accessing the piano in the choir room. She was there often enough that it would have been convenient; she'd started going to Wednesday morning Mass, having found that she enjoyed the Latin rite. It was attended by her and a group that mainly consisted of retirees, most of whom cheerfully accepted that she did not go to school and adored her for her regular attendance. (She had lost count of the number of times she had been told by the Wednesday-morning crew how much they wished _their_ grandchildren cared about God the way she did. Each time, Azrael smiled and refrained from comment.)

Usually she stayed at St. Brennan's on Wednesdays and helped with the church's food pantry. She'd shut the mouths of the few parishioners who thought she should be in school when she'd helped to translate for a recent immigrant who had come seeking a relative.

"You speak - what language even is that, sweetheart?" one woman had asked, her tone querulous.

"Georgian," Azrael had replied, thinking longingly of khachapuri and long-ago days in Tiflis. Her next meal with Lucifer, she decided, should be Georgian food, and she would order the cheese bread. Food tasted better in this body, she had noticed, or maybe she just had a better appetite for it.

"Is that even a real language?" the woman had asked.

"Obviously."

Lucifer, Azrael had reflected as the woman left in a huff, would have pulled that off better than she had. It was the accent. He could say the most awful things and people would let the words slide right off them, because of the accent. Well, that and his other charms.

* * *

After some time, Azrael saw a figure in blue pause at her side, then gesture at her ears. Pulling out one of her earbuds, Azrael turned her gaze to the man with a smile of polite inquiry. The lyrics, now audible to them both, were particularly profane, and Azrael bit back a sigh. Of course they were.

"Turn off the music, please," the tall man instructed, his brows lifting at the song. His face wasn't familiar, but the LAPD uniform was.

Azrael pulled out the second earbud and fumbled with her phone to turn off her music, flicking a glance to his nametag. "Is something wrong, Officer... Woods?" she asked disingenuously, thinking, _Wonderful._

Officer Woods smiled faintly. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Oh," Azrael replied with a glance to her phone. "It's 10:30." She folded her hands on the table, nodding as if to say, _There you go. Question answered. Move along, now._

Looking just a little amused, Officer Woods queried, "Isn't there somewhere you should be at 10:30 in the morning on a Friday?"

Azrael glanced around herself in apparently innocent puzzlement, then back to the officer. "I don't think so. I mean, I might go grab a scone. Have you tried the Rice Krispie scones here? I've heard they're good, but they sound kind of weird, you know?"

"How old are you, young lady?" the officer asked, his expression going serious.

Azrael smiled faintly. "In my experience, questions ending in 'young lady' tend to mean that the conversation is going in an unpleasant direction." She tucked her phone in her bag and took up her empty coffee cup. "It's been nice chatting with you, Officer."

Looking a little annoyed, Officer Woods asked, "Where are your parents? Do they know where you are?"

Opting not to inform the officer that there were those who believed that her father was everywhere, Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug, shooting a glance skyward and thinking that a little help from above wouldn't go amiss. Of course, this could also be her father's way of putting her in her place, in which case she could expect no help whatsoever.

"I asked you a question," Officer Woods said sharply.

Azrael sighed and started to answer when a familiar voice sounded from behind her. "Why are you questioning my daughter?"

Azrael turned, and there was her mother, expression stern. She took a moment to be grateful that the look was directed at the officer, and not at herself. Was this help? There was no way her father had sent her mother, but Azrael couldn't deny that her presence was helpful.

The officer looked between them and obviously noted their resemblance. "I thought she was ditching school," he replied. "You know, the truancy laws..."

Drawing herself up, Charlotte replied coolly, "She most certainly is not. Come along, sweetheart." She extended an arm to Azrael, who got to her feet, brushing past the officer.

"Nice meeting you, Officer," Azrael said sweetly. As they walked out of earshot, Azrael said, "Great timing, Mom. What are you doing here?"

"My office is right around the corner," Charlotte replied. "I felt like taking a walk. It seems that was a good thing."

Looking around to get her bearings, Azrael nodded. Noting her mother's Beelzebean cup, she said, puzzled, "I thought your office had that fancy coffeemaker. Why go to Beelzebean?"

Her lips pursing in something that was almost a smile, Charlotte said, "Well, one of the baristas has rather attractive hindquarters." Seeing Azrael's wry face, she added, "Sweetheart, live a little. Presumably your father is going to put you back to work eventually; you might as well have fun while you're here. I know you're not going to _do_ anything like that, particularly not in that body, but you can look."

Azrael snorted softly. "You're telling me to live a little, and you can't even say the barista has a nice butt. You sound like a robot, Mom, if robots looked like... " She waved vaguely at her mother, taking in the red dress with an approving nod. She paused a beat, then added, "You meant Alex, right?" Seeing Charlotte's eyebrows arch, she looked a little embarrassed, but said, "I wasn't objecting to the admiration, just that it was my _mother_ doing the admiring. I agree that Alex has a nice butt. I do have the eyes Dad gave me."

"Right," Charlotte scoffed. "Like I had nothing to do with those eyes. Eyes were _my_ idea. Speaking of your father, though..." Charlotte turned a thoughtful eye on her daughter, saying, "We should catch up. Amenadiel tells me that you've had an interesting time of it."

"Ah, yes," Azrael agreed, inwardly cursing her brother and wondering just how much he had told their mother. "You could say that." Still she walked along with her mother to Richards and Wheeler.

Charlotte dropped the full Beelzebean cup into her assistant's garbage and requested that he bring in two coffees, then swept into her office. Azrael followed, though not before giving the man a sympathetic look and a smile. Steering clear of the couch, she stepped past her mother's desk to peer out the window.

Charlotte followed, though she studied her daughter rather than the view. When Azrael didn't turn her way, she reached to touch the girl's cheek with the back of her hand. "Are you all right?" she asked, her tone unwontedly hesitant. "Amenadiel said you'd been injured."

Azrael looked, then, and her lips curved in a small smile. "I'm okay. I... Did he tell you the, um, details?"

Charlotte nodded. "He did. And your little bug was actually the one who told me you disappeared. I do wish that you'd kept me informed, Azrael."

Azrael looked baffled for a moment, then realized, "Trixie. She said she came to you, looking for me."

"Your little bug told me," Charlotte added slowly, "that you showed her your wings. So she knows what you are?"

Azrael took a deep breath, then nodded.

"And Lucifer's detective knows, too?" Charlotte's voice was even and smooth and Azrael straightened, suddenly wary.

"Mom, they do have names," Azrael protested. Charlotte regarded her steadily, and Azrael admitted, "Yes. I don't know how much Chloe knows about you, specifically, as I think Lucifer did some more explaining, but she know about me and Luci, and she knows you're my mother, so..." Her words trailed off uneasily, and she added, "I'm sorry. Not that I told them. That I didn't tell you that they knew."

The sound of dishes rattling announced the arrival of Charlotte's assistant. Bearing not just coffee but also a small plate of cookies, he set the tray on the table and offered Azrael a brief smile and a wink before taking himself out of the room.

Azrael drifted over to the table. "Chocolate chip," she approved of the cookies, though she took up the coffee first, bringing the other cup over to Charlotte.

Charlotte murmured her thanks as she took the cup. "Have you told... anyone else?" Seeing Azrael hesitate, she said crisply, "You may as well tell me. I'll find out eventually."

Azrael took a drink of her coffee, then nodded approvingly. "Nice," she murmured. "You should give him a raise." She looked askance at her mother, then asked, "Are you angry that they know?"

Charlotte stepped to the table and added sugar to her coffee, with a brief smile for the mention of her assistant's salary. "No," she said slowly, in answer to Azrael's question. "Though I do sense your father's hand in this." Seeing Azrael's attention focus, she nodded. "You think so, too, yes? So who else knows, Azrael? It's obvious that someone does from how you're acting."

Azrael was silent for a moment, then said carefully, "I just want to be sure that there won't be any... retaliation against the people who know."

"Sweetheart, what do you take me for?" Charlotte replied, her brows lifting. She sat on the couch, crossing her legs, and gave her daughter a vaguely challenging look.

"I'm just remembering plagues, Mom," Azrael replied, squaring her shoulders. "A certain flood. You don't like humans, and I don't want my friends to face consequences for my actions."

Charlotte pursed her lips, then set her coffee cup on the table. "I have found," she said slowly, "that some individual humans are... not awful. I won't do anything to your... friends."

"Why did you say it like that?" Azrael queried. "Do you think I shouldn't consider them my friends? Who else would be? The Silver City is full of intrigue. Hell is... Hell. It's not like there are a lot of options."

Charlotte shook her head. "I didn't mean anything by it, Azrael. You're reading too much into a little pause."

"Don't overthink it," Azrael murmured. She studied her mother for a moment, then asked, "Are you talking about Dan, when you said some humans weren't awful?"

"You didn't tell _him_ , did you?" Charlotte queried, her eyes widening.

"No," Azrael replied, with a brief smile. "Mom, did you really... you know... with Dan?" She raised her eyebrows meaningfully.

Her expression gone relieved, Charlotte replied, a note of teasing in her voice, "You can't even say 'have sex'? And, well, yes. Multiple times, in fact. He's very athletic." Taking in her daughter's wry expression, she added, amused, "You did ask."

"But not for details! Seriously, Mom. You're as bad as Luci." Azrael took a cookie - chocolate consolation, she thought, with a breath that was half a sigh - and took a bite. "Mm," she approved.

"Yes, well, you have not successfully distracted me, sweetheart, but you came close," Charlotte said lightly. "Who else knows?"

Azrael took a deep breath. "Ella Lopez. She's a forensic tech, works with Chloe and Lucifer. I've been staying with her since I moved out of the penthouse."

Startled, Charlotte sat upright, querying, "You moved out of the penthouse? To live with a human? Did you have an argument with your brother?"

Azrael shook her head, assuring, "No, we're fine. I just... I can't stay with him, not knowing that Dad may well have sent me here to mess with his life."

Charlotte nodded thoughtfully, with a brief flicker of something in her eyes Azrael couldn't quite name. "When your little bug came here to talk to me, she said that I, as your mother, should know where you are. I can't entirely disagree with that."

"Mom, she's not a bug, and she's not _mine_ ," Azrael flared. She closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, visibly reining herself in, then continued, choosing her words carefully. "I've gotten out of the habit of keeping you informed of my whereabouts. Dad, too, if it makes you feel any better."

Charlotte considered her daughter through narrowed eyes for a moment, then relaxed and smiled. "Strangely, that does." She hesitated, then said, her words coming slowly, "Amenadiel said your father healed you, when you were injured. He came to this plane. In a _body_." She made a face, smoothing her skirt over her legs. Keeping her eyes on her hands, she asked, "How... how did he look?"

"Like an old man in a sweater," Azrael replied lightly, smiling as Charlotte lifted her gaze. After a moment, she added, "He didn't mention you until he was leaving. He asked me to tell you something, but apparently changed his mind, as he didn't finish the sentence."

"Typical," Charlotte muttered, a certain light fading from her eyes.

Azrael nodded, with a small smile. "Communication is not his strong point," she agreed. She paused a beat, then added gently, "I'm sorry, Mom."

Charlotte fussed with her coffee cup, then shook her head dismissively. "Don't apologize for your father." She looked over then, with a faint smile. "I'm glad he was there to heal you, sweetheart. I wish I could have been there to help."

"It was sort of an... immediate need," Azrael said lightly. "And we talked after, and he and Luci talked. That went about as well as you would expect, but at least my house is still standing."

Shaking her head, Charlotte said lightly, "Their relationship always was tempestuous."

Azrael murmured something about understatement, exhaling a soft sigh. She finished her cookie, visibly considered another, and then opted for another drink of coffee instead.

Charlotte got to her feet once more, leaving her coffee aside, and moved to stand next to her daughter. Azrael looked up to see a flicker of vulnerability in her mother's expression, quickly masked. "Can I see them?" Charlotte queried. Seeing Azrael's puzzlement, she clarified, "Your wings." After a moment, she added softly, "Please?"

Azrael's expression softened. "Chad won't come in? Your assistant," she added.

"I don't think that's his name," Charlotte replied, with a faint frown. "But, no, he won't."

"He looks like a Chad," Azrael replied, shoulders lifting in a small shrug. She nodded, though she still moved so that she wasn't in the direct line of sight of the doorway before she unfurled her wings.

Charlotte stepped closer, her expression fond. She reached to touch Azrael's wing, though she paused and waited for a nod from her daughter before completing the gesture. "I'd forgotten how lovely they are," she said, with the gentlest of touches.

"Lucifer's were prettier," Azrael demurred. "And Amenadiel had a wider wingspan. And Michael -"

"Now stop that," Charlotte chided. "Really, you need to learn to accept compliments. They're different from your brothers' wings, but they're beautiful because they're part of you. And you were the one flying before you could walk, not Lucifer or Amenadiel or Michael."

Azrael smiled, shaking her head. "I did that? I don't remember."

Chuckling softly, Charlotte replied, "Well, you wouldn't; you were tiny. I wasn't sure you ever would learn to walk, you loved flying so much," she added, with a fond smile. "It took Lucifer bribing you for it to happen."

Azrael extended her wings just a little, her expression reflective and affectionate. An image flickered into her mind: a clean-shaven Lucifer crouched before her, his hands extended, his voice cajoling, but she wasn't sure if it was memory or wishful thinking. "I didn't know that. Thanks, Mom."

"Of course, sweetheart," Charlotte replied. "You know, giving you children wings, that was my idea."

Azrael began to reply, but was interrupted by a buzz from Charlotte's desk phone. She whisked away her wings , her eyes widening a little, and Charlotte's assistant's voice sounded. "Sorry to interrupt, but your 11:45 is here."

Charlotte started to say something about canceling, but Azrael shook her head. "No, Mom, I can head out. Just let me finish my coffee." She smiled a little sheepishly, but took up her cup once more, draining the last of her drink.

"You'll burn your mouth," Charlotte fussed, but Azrael shook her head as she set down the empty cup.

"Worth it," the girl replied, smiling. After an awkward moment, she added, "I'll try to be better about keeping in touch. Thanks for the story, Mom."

"You're welcome, sweetheart."

Azrael stepped out of the office as Chad - or possibly Brent - ushered in the waiting young couple, then turned to her and asked, "Is she really your mom? I didn't know that she had kids other than the twins."

Azrael paused a beat, then nodded. "Our family's a little complicated. Hey, thanks for the cookies."

The young man studied her for a moment, then said, "I should have guessed. You look just like her. Hey, have a good afternoon, kiddo."

"Thanks, you, too." Azrael made her way to the street. "Kiddo," she muttered. " _Kiddo_." She kicked irritably at a discarded soda can, then, with an exasperated sound, chased it down and scooped it up, tossing it in a recycling bin.

A boy about the age of her body stormed out of a nearby building, closely followed by a woman with enough resemblance to him to be a family member. "Well, if you'd just _practice_ , William," she called after him. The pair brushed past Azrael and she looked over at the building they had exited.

"Huh," she murmured, reading the sign on the door. "A music school." She pushed the door open and stepped inside. The empty waiting room was tiny, but bright and cheerful; several lesson rooms opened off the single hallway, leading to an office at the end of the hall. Each lesson room had a whiteboard on the door; each whiteboard but the last had a schedule written on it. Halting music came from the first room, and Azrael winced as the student inside hit a wrong note. She made her way to the last practice room and pushed open the door, revealing a tiny room just big enough for the piano, the small bookshelf full of sheet music, and the chair.

After taking a moment to nudge the door nearly closed, Azrael seated herself at the piano and played a simple chord. The tone was sweet and true, and Azrael smiled. Twisting to reach the bookshelf, she started to page through the music. "Yes," she murmured, finding an interesting piece and turning back to the piano. "This will do nicely."

She had, she decided as she played, become too used to ready access to pianos, that she was missing them this much.

She had become too used to a lot of things. Ella was lovely and Azrael was grateful to her - not a word she'd expected to find herself using about a human, _grateful_ \- but the apartment was small, and Azrael had become accustomed to a certain amount of privacy, not just at Lucifer's penthouse but in her millenia of existence. Her job, after all, had been a solitary one, and there were moments when it felt distinctly odd to be surrounded by humans who could see her, most of whom had no idea who - what - she really was, if that even was her, any more. She was used to being on the periphery, unobserved, unnoticed, even in the Silver City.

Azrael found she rather enjoyed having people meet her eyes when she came into a room, seeing them smile and hearing them greet her. Not that her brother hadn't done those things, of course, but it was different with the humans.

Lucifer did have that lovely hot tub, though, and Azrael thought longingly of it each time she tried to soak away her aches in Ella's shower, mindful of the hot water after that one time.

For there were aches. After the experiment with Linda, she felt reasonably certain that her wings wouldn't be seen; she was flying much more. She'd found enough out-of-the-way spots to take off and land, and had in fact become far too familiar with back alleys and other less-desirable locations. While her vertical takeoffs had improved as a result, her oh-too-human muscles protested the unaccustomed use. It was worth it, though, to be able to take to the air whenever she liked. Ella's apartment, after all, didn't really have room enough for her to stretch out her wings, even after they'd finally taken down the Christmas decorations. Azrael did not miss the Weeping Angel tree-topper, though she privately resolved that, if she was still in LA at Halloween, she would go in costume as a Weeping Angel. After all, she already had the wings.

* * *

Azrael wasn't sure how much time had passed when she finally stopped playing, but it was long enough that a dull ache had settled in her hands. She muttered a quiet oath, shaking her hands out from the wrists, then carefully put the music away where she'd found it. Standing with a stretch, she moved to the door. As she started down the hallway, a voice sounded from the office, thinned with age but still strong. "Come in here, please, whoever you are."

Azrael considered bolting, but, curious, she stepped into the office instead. Like the waiting room, the office was small - cozy - but cheerful, with a desk, another of those bookshelves, and a battered piano. The woman behind the desk matched the room. She was tiny, with a network of wrinkles on her face that seemed mostly to come from smiling, and long, straight, black hair that seemed to have some chemical assistance in maintaining its color.

Seeing Azrael enter, she got to her feet, brows lifting. "Well. You're not what I was expecting." She frowned thoughtfully, and Azrael expected the usual questions: how old was she, why wasn't she in school, did her parents know where she was? Instead, the woman extended a hand and requested, "Let me see your hands." Azrael silently complied, and the woman turned first one hand then the other in her own hands, her fingers cool, her touch light. Seeing the bruised knuckles of Azrael's left hand, she looked at the girl, brows lifting. "Got in a fight?"

Azrael shrugged. "You should see the other guy," she replied.

That, she decided, was a better answer than, _It happened while I was trying to keep a demon from stabbing me with a rubber knife, because those things leave pointy, pointy bruises._ Maze had suggested the rubber knives when Azrael had requested that their mat time focus on evading knife attacks. She'd made it clear that this was for Azrael's benefit, saying, "I don't want to deal with your blood all over the mat, Fun Size."

Fun Size. Wherever Maze had picked up the nickname, she'd seemed particularly pleased with it, much to Azrael's chagrin, and used it at every opportunity. Azrael knew better than to suggest that Maze might do any bleeding. And, despite all Azrael's frantic efforts, she still ended up with the bruises. Of course.

"Be more careful next time," the woman said. She considered Azrael for a moment, then asked, "No piano at your place?"

Azrael shook her head, with a quick smile as she tried to imagine where a piano would fit in Ella's apartment. "I'm staying with a friend, and her place isn't big enough." Though she did take a moment to imagine Ella's reaction if she installed a piano: probably a shrug and a "Cool," knowing the tech's unflappable nature.

The woman nodded slowly. "All right. Are you looking for a teacher?" Azrael shook her head, and the woman continued, after a brief look of disappointment, "You seem like someone who should have access to a piano. We're currently down an instructor since Anna got married and moved to Cleveland, so we have a spare practice room for the time being. We're open two to nine except for Fridays when we open at eleven for some homeschoolers, and then close at seven. Open Sundays, closed Mondays. You're welcome to use the piano until I find another instructor."

"But you don't even know me," Azrael replied, frowning a little.

The woman shrugged. "Who are you?"

"Rae," Azrael replied. "Um. Morningstar.

"Margaret Smith. Nice to meet you." Margaret smiled. "And I might not know you, Rae, but I know a musician when I see one." She gestured toward the room where Azrael had been practicing. "And when I hear one."

Azrael nodded slowly. "Thanks." She hesitated, then offered, "I can pay for the use of the room."

"I'm not taking your money, child," Margaret said firmly. "Just know that this is only a temporary situation, though it may take me some time to find the right instructor." After a moment, and a warm smile, she asked, "Do your parents know where you are? I mean in general - not at this exact moment."

Azrael nodded. Noting the woman's faint look of relief, she added, "I just saw my mom earlier today. We're okay, I think. We just have a complicated situation."

Margaret hesitated, then asked, "And your father?"

Azrael considered her response, then replied, "He doesn't live in LA."

With a nod and a quick, ready smile, Margaret said, "Well, you're welcome to come here whenever we're open, but I don't want you playing any more today, and no more than, oh, three hours a day. I don't want you overdoing it and hurting yourself. Pick times and put them on the whiteboard."

"Thank you," Azrael replied, echoing the woman's smile.

"Now scoot," Margaret said, making a shooing gesture. "I hear the sun is shining today. Go get yourself some vitamin D."

Azrael nodded, and made her way into the hallway. As she reached the door, she heard the sounds of Margaret's piano and the last song she had been playing, the Rachmaninoff. Smiling, Azrael stepped into the sunshine.

* * *

 **Apologies for how long it took to finish this chapter. It was intended to he longer, but I split it in the interest of getting something out sooner. It will not take so long for the next chapter.**


	47. Chapter 47

Azrael made her way back to Chloe's desk, though she knew from her brother's text not to expect them for a little while. She sat at the desk, the better to stay out of the way, and resisted the temptation to spin in the chair. Instead, with a small shrug, she opened the topmost of a stack of files, careful not to get them out of whatever arcane ordering system Chloe used. It was better than being bored, and it wasn't like she was squeamish about pictures of corpses.

The file was an unsolved case from earlier in the year, one that had apparently landed on Chloe's desk for review. Azrael paged through the file - she didn't usually see death from this end, after all - and it didn't take long for her to become absorbed in its contents.

It took Chloe's rather emphatic throat-clearing to draw Azrael's attention back to the land of the living. Looking up to meet two pair of eyes - Chloe's exasperated sea-green and Lucifer's amused brown - she offered an unapologetic smile. "The sister-in-law did it," she offered.

"Wait, what?" Chloe replied, reaching for the file. "But she had an alibi."

Azrael lifted her shoulders in a small shrug as she handed over the file. "Then she lied, and apparently got other people to lie for her. She definitely did it, though." With a gesture to her brother, she added, "Luci can get her to tell the truth."

Lucifer rocked back on his heels and tucked his hands in his pockets, looking rather smugly pleased, though whether at Azrael's demonstrated helpfulness or her faith in him wasn't clear.

Chloe, looking at Azrael over the top of the file, asked, "How do you know that she did it?"

Azrael glanced around the room, then replied lightly, "It happened before I came here, so... occupational knowledge."

Clearly thinking about the current backlog of cold cases, Chloe asked, "So you remember how everyone died? Ever?"

Shifting in the chair, Azrael replied, "It depends on the situation, but I'd been paying closer attention to deaths in the area since Lucifer came here, especially after his singer died."

"Delilah," Lucifer corrected sharply. "She has a name. Had. What, you took her soul? With me right there, and you didn't even stop to say hello?"

Azrael was silent a moment, regarding her brother. "She does," she agreed softly, getting to her feet as Chloe paged through another file. "Yes, I took her soul - of course, who else? - and * _yes_ *, I stopped, but you didn't see me, and then there was a five-car pileup and I had to go." Hearing the defensive note that was creeping into her voice, she amended gently, "I'm sorry. I wanted to stay, and I should have, but... you know. The job."

"The job," Lucifer echoed, with a twist to his lips that Azrael didn't entirely like. Shaking his head, he added, "Dad engineered the car accident to take you away."

"No." Azrael spoke firmly. "He wouldn't do that." With a wry little smile, she added, in acknowledgement of Lucifer's scornful expression, "He only manipulates his kids. He wouldn't do that to humans."

Lucifer inclined his head and started to speak, but then both siblings' attention was drawn to the photograph Chloe was displaying - a face, the woman obviously dead. "How did she die?"

Azrael studied the photo for a moment, then replied, "Bled out from multiple stab wounds. She didn't know the person who did it, but he had light hair and was pretty tall."

"You don't know who he was?" Chloe asked, looking a little disappointed.

With a shrug, Azrael replied, "Only if the dead person did. And, look, you'd still have to prove it legally. I know some people enjoy vigilante justice, but I doubt you're among them." She turned back to Lucifer and started to speak, but then Chloe held up another picture. "Uh, single gunshot, but it was an accident. His cousin." As a third picture was displayed, she bit back on a sigh, but said, "Pushed down the stairs, didn't see the other person."

Behind them, Dan said, "That is the strangest pop quiz I've ever seen. Seriously, what freaky homeschool class are you doing, kid?"

Azrael turned, with a sudden, too-bright smile. "Hi, Dan. Mom and I were just talking about you, earlier today."

Dan shook his head, with a rueful expression. "Yeah, I'm just gonna keep walking." And he did, muttering something under his breath about morbid, creepy little girls, his tone amused.

"That wasn't very nice," Lucifer chided, though he looked entertained.

Azrael shrugged. "Sometimes I'm not nice. I just... I don't think Mom wants him to know about the whole celestial thing," she explained, a little sheepishly.

"You don't think Mum wants him to know, and you're just going with that?" Lucifer queried, an arch to his brows. "Since when?"

Looking away, Azrael replied, "We talked today. It was... nice. I'm not picking sides," she added, her gaze shifting back to her brother. "I just... I don't know."

"You could have told Dan you'd been looking through the files," Chloe suggested with an amused headshake.

Curious, Lucifer queried, "Were you and Mum really talking about Daniel?"

Azrael nodded. "She said -" She flicked a glance at Chloe, then said, "Highly inappropriate things. She actually helped me out earlier, though; one of your boys in blue caught me outside Beelzebean and thought I was ditching school."

Looking briefly entertained by Azrael's obviously edited words, Chloe said, "Well, it's a logical assumption. You do look like you belong in middle school."

"Gee, thanks," Azrael murmured, though not without a smile.

"What was she doing at Beelzebean?" Lucifer thought to ask.

Azrael made a face. "Ogling the barista with the nice butt."

"Oh, Alex?" Lucifer queried brightly, beaming at Azrael's nod. Catching Chloe's exasperated look, he added, "No, Detective, her butt is truly magnificent. It's what Plato would have referenced, if he'd written about butts. Actually, he did write about butts, but that was for his _personal_ collection." He leered cheerfully, then added, "I know, we should swing by so you can see! I'll knock something over, so Alex has to -"

"No, that's okay," Chloe replied, lifting a hand in a warding gesture, all but choking at Azrael's murmured, "It really is nice, though."

The girl looked over with a vaguely embarrassed smile, adding, "I can appreciate the aesthetics."

"See?" Lucifer encouraged, with a gesture to his sister. "Even Rae thinks so, and she's still playing by dear old Dad's rules vis-a-vis sex. Worth a look, yes?"

"I can't believe you two are objectifying her like this," Chloe chided.

"Three if you count Mom," Azrael quipped. "If it helps, I also recognize that she makes great lattes. And we've had actual conversations. She's nice."

Lucifer agreed, struggling to keep a straight face, "More than just a spectacular butt."

As Dan returned, Chloe looked over with an expression of relief, perhaps assuming that he wouldn't sing the virtues of Alex at Beelzebean.

"Look," Dan said, addressing Lucifer as he waved a partly-open pudding container, "if you're the one who's messing with my pudding, I'd appreciate it if you would knock it off." He sighed, clearly frustrated. "I thought we were past this, man."

Lucifer held up two fingers as if he were saying the Boy Scout oath, eliciting a laugh from Azrael. "Hush, you," he murmured to her, before adding, "Daniel, I swear on my honor that I haven't touched your pudding, not since we had that little discussion. After all, it _is_ clearly labeled."

Dan looked between the three: Lucifer, all injured innocence; Azrael, looking like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth; and Chloe, biting back a laugh at the siblings. With an inarticulate sound of annoyance, followed by an aggrieved mutter about tapioca, Dan took himself back to the break room.

"Mazikeen?" Azrael queried, looking amused at Lucifer's nod of confirmation.

"She has to entertain herself somehow," the Devil replied. "Tormenting Dan via pudding seems relatively harmless."

Curious, Azrael asked, as Chloe thumbed through more files, "What discussion were you talking about?"

"Oh, he got hold of your Blade, after all those killings at the yoga studio," Lucifer replied lightly. "Got very emotional about his pudding and -" He slid a glance at Chloe. "- certain other things."

Azrael queried, "And he shook it off?" At Lucifer's nod of confirmation, she peered after Dan, clearly impressed. "Huh. Well, good for him."

Setting down the files, Chloe asked Azrael, lowering her voice, "That knife from the yoga studio - that was yours?" Azrael nodded rather grimly, and Chloe looked between the siblings, a line furrowing between her brows. "So there's something -" She made a vague gesture. "- different about it?" Azrael nodded again, and Chloe rounded on Lucifer. "You took it, didn't you?"

"Chloe, trust me when I saw that it's not something you want in mortal hands," Azrael replied before Lucifer could answer, her voice quiet but intent. "If Lucifer took it, he did the right thing."

"If it's that dangerous, how did it get here?" Chloe demanded, though she, too, kept her voice low.

Shaking his head, Lucifer said, "Detective, this isn't the best place for this conversation, but Rae or I will answer your questions at a better time and place, I promise."

"All those people, dead." Chloe frowned, not entirely ready to let the topic go, but she fell silent, starting to sort the folders into two piles; Azrael suspected the piles were chronological, and that she'd be getting a closer look at one of them.

Azrael shot a glance at Lucifer and started to speak, then looked away, hoisting one hip onto the edge of Chloe's desk. When she turned her gaze back to her brother to find him watching her, amused, she wrinkled her nose at him.

"Come on, out with it, whatever it is," Lucifer said pleasantly. "What, more horrible stories about Mum? She didn't sleep with Alex, did she?"

Azrael shook her head. "Not today, at least. I hope she doesn't," she added, a faint note of complaint to her voice. "I'd never be able to go back to that Beelzebean if she did."

Lucifer grinned as he took possession of a nearby chair. "Well, we can't have that. What, then?"

"Did you really make me learn how to walk?" Azrael queried, after a moment. "Mom said... and I don't think she was angling for anything, but..."

Chloe looked over the edge of her folder to see Lucifer's answer, and didn't bother to hide a smile at the way his eyes softened, the gentle curve of his lips. It wasn't an expression she'd seen on him, she reflected. It suited him.

"Well," Lucifer replied, his voice quiet but fond. "I haven't thought about that in ages. I suppose so. You insisted on flying, but you kept tumbling about, didn't quite have the hang of directions. We were always having to haul you back where you were supposed to be. Then you managed to get in the way while Michael and Amenadiel were hacking at each other with their swords - for fun, mind, but they still weren't pulling their hits, and they very nearly damaged you. Mum was furious with Gabriel - he was meant to be watching you." He took a breath as Azrael waited, her expression rapt. "I took you away before the shouting set you off - you got quite shrill when you were upset; nice to know some things haven't changed." He laughed, though he didn't move away, when Azrael raised a hand in mock-threat. "So I sat you down and told you enough was enough, time to learn to walk."

Azrael said, with a reflective smile, "Mom said you bribed me."

Lucifer nodded, his expression brightening. "Oh, certainly. Of course it would take convincing to get you to put your feet on the ground. Why bother, after all, when you could fly?"

Azrael couldn't help but nod, though she asked, "What was the bribe?"

Leaning back a little, Lucifer replied, with a glint of amusement, "Oh, a rock I, ah, happened upon. You were fond of sparkly things and snapped it up. Honestly, I'm surprised you never ended up on Hoarders, as acquisitive as you were back then."

Azrael pressed her lips together for a moment, then wordlessly dipped a hand into the front of her shirt and pulled out a stone on a chain.

Thanks to Trixie's recent obsession with rocks, Chloe might have called the stone a geode. That, at least, was the closest thing she could come up with, though the stone was smooth and flat and oval-shaped. Of a size to fit comfortably in the hand of a tiny child, it looked as if someone - and she had a good idea who - had encapsulated a glimmering galaxy in the rock.

"Yes," Lucifer agreed softly, reaching to cup the stone, his hand dwarfing it. "That's it."

"I never remembered where I got it," Azrael admitted. "Just that it was special."

Lucifer drew himself upright, releasing the stone. "Yes, well, now you know."

Azrael watched him, a hint of understanding in her expression. "It's okay to remember that it wasn't all awful," she said gently. "I mean, I know a lot of it was, for you, but not all of it." Her tone crept upward at the end of the sentence, not quite turning it into a question.

"No, not all if it." Something about Lucifer's face suggested that perhaps, at least for him, it wasn't okay to remember the positives about the Silver City. His expression shuttered for a moment, and then he pulled on a smile. "Well, that's the story of how Azrael learned that it was possible, though not preferable, not to fly all the time. Here endeth the lesson."

Azrael looked for a moment like she might push the issue, but a look at her brother's determinedly pleasant expression made her shake her head and tuck away the necklace.

"So," Chloe said, earning Lucifer's prompt and grateful attention for her diversion, "Trixie has decided that she wants to fly."

Azrael, looking toward the exit, turned back to Chloe. "I'm sorry. I've told her I can't. I don't want to risk her. Maybe once I've been restored to myself, though..." She frowned and didn't finish.

Lucifer got that twist to his smile again, and didn't say anything.

Chloe glanced between the siblings, but said, "No, she wants flying lessons. In a plane."

Lucifer offered, "I know a pilot; she owes me a favor. Wouldn't cost you a dime."

"Of course you do," Chloe replied, amused. "But I couldn't, Lucifer. That's too much."

"Why?" Lucifer queried, honestly confused. "It's not like it's a doll or something. Or did your daughter destroy more of her possessions in an attempt to get flying lessons?"

"Well, no," Chloe replied.

Azrael, hiding a smile as she saw the detective wavering, offered, "It's educational, Chloe. Also a good start toward Trixie getting to Mars."

"In a plane?" Chloe queried.

"NASA likes pilots," Lucifer replied, with a shrug. "It'd be no trouble, really, Detective."

Chloe frowned thoughtfully. "I'll think about it. But what was the favor you did for this pilot?"

"A gentleman never tells," Lucifer said, though his tone was mild, rather than lascivious. "It was innocent, though; she'd be perfectly safe for Beatrice."

Chloe nodded. "I'll let you know." Turning to Azrael, she asked, "You still coming over tonight?"

Azrael nodded. "Yes, if it's still okay. I want to make sure Ella has enough time to herself - not that I'm not willing to watch Buffy with her every night. I mean, I can get behind a tiny, blond protagonist." She realized what she said just a moment too late, and sighed, lifting a hand to rub at her forehead.

"Ding dong," Lucifer murmured, his eyebrows lifting at the twin disgusted looks from the tiny, blond protagonists before him. "What? She's quippy and she kicks ass. What's not to like?"

"I thought you were going to make a 'get behind' sex joke," Azrael accused.

"Well, of course I was thinking it," Lucifer admitted. "You can't just hand me a straight line like that and not expect me to go there."

Azrael lifted her eyes skyward and turned back to Chloe, ignoring Lucifer's grin as she continued, "But I think Ella said she was going to try to get the Tribe together. You're going, right? I mean -" She lowered her voice. "- I'm older than humanity. I can keep track of Trixie for one evening. I even have a reference," she added, an amused glint in her eyes.

"Right, Lucifer mentioned you were babysitting," Chloe agreed, something about her expression suggesting that Lucifer had, in fact, gone on at length about his sister's new vocation.

"C'mon, Luci, tell her she should go out," Azrael urged.

Nodding, Lucifer agreed, "Absolutely! You ladies should come have fun at Lux. Drinks on the house!"

Azrael leaned against Chloe's desk. "Look," she said with a quick smile, ticking off her points on one hand. "I'll only let Trixie manipulate me into staying up half an hour past bedtime, eating a moderate amount of sugar, watching one ridiculous animated movie - okay, two if one is The Incredibles - and reading four bedtime stories." More seriously, she added, "We won't leave the house, and no flying. Promise." Chloe hesitated, and Azrael lost her smile, her gaze dropping, the hand she'd been using to tick off points closing into a limp fist. "Or not. Okay, never mind."

Chloe shook her head, protesting, "Rae, I'm just not sure if I want to go out tonight, that's all." Azrael didn't look up, and Chloe added, "It's not because of yesterday."

"You know the detective," Lucifer added lightly, his eyes on his sister after a quick, curious glance at Chloe. "She's boring. Her idea of fun is reading stories to her offspring."

"That's true," Chloe agreed, with a quick smile. She studied Azrael, then admitted, "And I worry, a little, that Trixie sees you more as a friend than an authority figure."

Azrael took a moment to mull that over, and nodded. "Maybe she does. But sometimes friends can accomplish things that authority figures can't." She fidgeted with some pens on Chloe's desk, missing the hopeful look that Lucifer was giving the detective.

Chloe exhaled a barely audible sigh. "Okay, I'll go. I'm not promising Lux," she added, as Azrael looked up and Lucifer beamed. "After all, it's not just my decision."

Azrael smiled. "Thanks, Chloe."

"Want to catcha ride?" the detective queried, with a small smile. "I still have some work to do, so it would be a little while."

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "No thanks. Think I'll stretch my wings."

Lucifer and Chloe watched her go, a small spring in her step, then Lucifer said, "Don't worry, Detective. The offspring-sitting will be fine. How much trouble could they get into after all?" He frowned in puzzlement at the exasperated look Chloe gave him. "What?"

"Do you watch horror movies?" Chloe waited for Lucifer's amused headshake, then said, "There are things you don't do in a horror movie, not if you want to make it to the end of the movie. You don't separate the group, you don't go into the basement, and you _don't_ say things like _I think we're safe now_ or _How much trouble could they get into?_ " Laughing as she shook her head, Chloe informed Lucifer, "If they cause some sort of disaster, you're helping me clean it up."

Still looking amused, Lucifer said, "Horror movies aside, I still think it's a pretty safe bet. Rae can handle herself, and I'm reasonably certain she can wrangle your offspring. And if she does cause a disaster, _she_ should clean it up."

"It's the combination of the two of them, though," Chloe said. "See, Trix has decided that Rae needs to do kid things, since she's in a kid body. She'll say -" And here Chloe did a spot-on imitation of her child in full-on sweet manipulation mode, far better than her Lucifer impression. "- 'Mommy, I'll bet Rae's * _never_ * been on the swings at a playground,' or a water park, or the science museum, things like that."

Leaning against a nearby desk, Lucifer queried, amused, "And what does my sweet sister do?"

"Plays along, for the most part," Chloe replied. "Though she drew the line at the water park. Too many people and too cold, she said. And we almost got in trouble at the science museum - that's what happened yesterday. There were protesters about some traveling exhibit on evolution. They were picketing, and some of the signs were... well, they were expressing what the picketers said were Jesus' opinions. I'm not sure Josh would have agreed with them."

Lucifer winced just a bit. "I take it Rae didn't appreciate that? She's always been a bit protective of him and how he's portrayed. Older sibling and all."

Chloe smiled briefly at the mention of protective older siblings, but then her expression sobered. "She told me to stay with Trix - _told_ me, and then went over to them, just assumed that I'd stay behind."

"Did you?" Lucifer queried, his expression thoughtful.

Chloe nodded, with a small frown. "Well, yes, I... it wasn't far, and I didn't want Trixie to get any closer. Lucifer, if I'd thought -"

"No, no, I'm not upset," Lucifer assured her. "As I said, Rae can handle herself. But what did she do?"

Looking a little troubled, Chloe said, "I'm not sure what she said to him, Lucifer, but the look on her face, and I think her eyes turned black for a second - her entire eyes. It looked like it was going to get ugly, but the guy she was talking to just... backed off. And then they all left. I checked with the museum, and they didn't come back today. They'd been there every day this week, since the exhibit arrived."

With a faint frown, Lucifer asked, "And this happened yesterday?"

"We went for a few hours after Trixie got out of school, yeah. Sorry I didn't tell you earlier."

"Murder's a distracting thing," Lucifer absolved. "What I find interesting is that Rae herself didn't mention it. I wonder if she realizes what she's done."

Frowning a little, Chloe asked, "What did she do?"

Hands lifted in a gesture of unwonted uncertainty, Lucifer replied, "I'm not entirely sure."

"Are you worried?" Chloe pressed.

Lucifer turned his gaze back to Chloe. "Beatrice is safe with her," he said, his voice utterly certain. "Don't concern yourself on that account. I'm just wondering... something similar happened while she was handling her blade."

"Right," Chloe agreed. "That blade that one of you will explain to me later." Her tone made it clear that the explanation was not optional.

Lucifer nodded. His manner conciliatory, he added, "Daresay she'll take it with her when she leaves, so it won't be an issue." Frowning a little, he added, "Beatrice understands that, yes? That my sister is only here temporarily? And once she leaves..."

Chloe peered at him, brows lifting. "What, you think she'll take off and not come back?"

"You heard her." Lucifer gestured in the direction Azrael had taken. His voice deftly mimicking his sister, accent and all, he added, "The job." He sighed and returned to his own voice. "It's very demanding."

Chloe put down the files stepped around the desk to stand before Lucifer. "Hey," she said gently. "She loves you. She wouldn't do that. You know she'll come back."

His expression bleak, Lucifer replied, "Detective, what in the world gave you the idea that she'll have a choice?" He pushed to his feet and moved restlessly into the relative privacy of the hallway, Chloe trailing behind. "Dear old Dad sent her here for her task, and then he'll take her away. He's just left her here long enough for -" He leaned against the wall, and Chloe rested a hand on his back.

"For you to remember how much you love her," she suggested, and Lucifer nodded. Chloe exhaled an annoyed huff. "Your Dad's an asshole."

That sparked a smile from Lucifer, albeit a wan one. "Hearing that never gets old."

Chloe watched him for a moment, then asked, "Want to head out? I can wrap things up here."

"And be deprived of the joy of watching you do paperwork?" Lucifer asked - watching, Chloe noted, not _doing_. "Perish the thought." He gestured for Chloe to lead the way back to her desk, his smile fading to a thoughtful frown as he followed her.

* * *

 **Author's note: You guys. In writing this chapter, I attempted to find out, via Google, if Plato ever wrote about butts. That ranks up there among my weirdest Google searches ever.**


	48. Chapter 48

**Author's note: Readers of Television Without Pity will recognize Azrael's explanation to Trixie of when she should ask God for help. Trixie's response to Azrael's comment about God making everything was adapted from one of the lovely Let's Wing It fics on AO3. Apologies for anything else I may have inadvertently purloined.**

* * *

Azrael came to a neat landing next to the dumpster behind Chloe and Maze's apartment building. An undignified spot, she mused as she tucked away her wings, but one where she was less likely to be spotted. She pulled out her hair tie, shaking out her ponytail, then loped around to the front of the building, where she perched on one of the benches there. It would be some time before Chloe and Trixie returned, she knew, but she was still leery of flying too much at once and so had ended her flight; this particular bench was a good one for people watching, so she settled in to wait.

She paused in the process of putting in her earbuds as she saw a familiar figure making his way toward her, and scooted over to make room.

"Hello, brother," she greeted, her tone a little wary.

Michael folded himself to a seat next to her. "Azrael," he replied, inclining his head. "And before you ask, no, I'm not here to take you home, though I think you're making progress."

Azrael wondered at the niggling sense of relief that she felt, the tension leaving her shoulders. Was it the progress Michael mentioned that caused those feelings, or something else? "I'm... what?" she replied, her voice nearly cracking on the second word. "Did Dad say that?"

Michael lifted his shoulders. "Not in so many words, but you know how he is." He caught sight of Azrael's dubious look and smiled. "Just keep on as you've been going, little sister. You'll be home before you know it."

Azrael shook her head. "Michael, do you know what the end goal is? Even a hint?" He shook his head, and Azrael sighed.

"You've been flying a lot more," Michael offered, in an obvious attempt at moving away from an awkward subject. "You're looking good. Nice turns."

Azrael smiled. "Thanks. I've been working hard on it." She looked away, watching a woman approaching with her dog, then admitted, "It's a little nerve-wracking. I keep expecting the sky to throw me down."

Michael hesitated, then rested a tentative hand on her shoulder. "What happened with that storm isn't likely to happen again. Even with your current... limitations, I'm sure you'll be okay."

Azrael flicked a glance at her brother's hand, but didn't shrug it off, instead saying, "Thanks. And, well, what doesn't kill you..."

"Makes you stronger," Michael supplied, with an approving smile.

Azrael shook her head, with a glint in her eyes. "Nah. What doesn't kill you gives you a dark sense of humor and unhealthy coping mechanisms. If you're going to give me another ridiculous t-shirt, put _that_ on it."

Michael laughed, though he cut off the sound as the dog-walker, having heard Azrael's words, all but tripped over her own feet as she turned to stare at the girl.

Azrael smiled and called brightly, "Cute dog."

The dog-walker stammered her thanks and continued on her way.

"That wasn't very nice," Michael observed, though without heat.

"You're the second sibling today to tell me that," Azrael replied, unconcerned. "She was eavesdropping. That wasn't my fault."

Michael considered his sister's words, then nodded, with an agreeable shrug. "Not like she was injured."

The two sat silently for a moment, though it was more awkward than companionable, until Azrael finally asked, "So that's why you're here? To tell me to keep on as I have been? I mean, not that I don't appreciate you coming now, rather than showing up in the middle of the night, but I've kind of got plans..."

"Well," Michael said, and his awkward tone was enough to focus Azrael's attention. "Actually. Your... friend."

Azrael had an idea who he meant, but she turned wide, confused eyes on him. "I have more than one friend, brother." She smiled, realizing that it was true. Who would have thought?

"Of course," Michael replied hastily. "But I mean the one with the excellent..." His hands sketched a curve, and Azrael's eyebrows inclined sharply. Michael finished, tone a little defensive, "Excellent taste in weaponry. Honestly, Azrael, what did you think I was going to say?"

"I thought you meant her breasts," Azrael replied frankly, not bothering to hide her laugh at Michael's horrified expression, though she realized that his hand-motion had been meant to indicate a bat'leth. "That's what that gesture usually means, I thought."

"I never," her brother sputtered. "I wouldn't!"

"You never?" Azrael replied, with emphasis, enjoying watching Michael squirm. "You _wouldn't_?"

Michael gaped at her. "No!"

Azrael shrugged. "You're allowed to look," she replied. "You're just... I don't know, admiring Dad's creation. Flowers are pretty, right? We're allowed to look at them."

"Ella's not a flower," Michael replied seriously.

Azrael smiled. "Okay, fair point. And, hey, you do know her name! Good for you - up top!" She held up a hand for a high five.

Michael looked down his nose at her. "You're being ridiculous."

Azrael, enjoying being ridiculous, gave her hand a little shake, until Michael finally gave it a half-hearted slap.

"There you go," Azrael encouraged. She inhaled to say more, possibly channeling Lucifer to inform Michael of what other things one might do with a flower, but then Michael's gaze grew distant. It took a second for Azrael to realize what was happening, and then she had to close her eyes against the acid tide of jealousy that rose within her, all but choking her. "Couldn't you gave done that before you got here?" she asked as she opened her eyes, her words clipped, her diction razor-sharp, consonants popping. Head tilting so she could see the sky, she suggested crisply, "Or you could just talk to me yourself."

"He can't," Michael said gently. When Azrael rounded on him, he added, "I thought you knew. Your mortal body, it's too limited. He can send feelings... dreams, but he can't talk to you the way he could if you were in your usual form. That body can't take so much divinity."

Azrael rested her head in her hands, arms braced on her thighs. "So he can't talk to me because of the body that _he put me in_." She felt Michael's hand on her back and shook if off, though she kept her face covered for a moment longer before she sat up, her expression bleak. "I don't know why I expected anything different. What did he say?"

"The child's father," Michael began, frowning.

Azrael sighed as she sat up. "Michael. I know more than one child. Humans have names, you know. I swear, you're as bad as Mom."

"I am not!" Michael lurched to his feet and Azrael recoiled at her brother's sudden fury.

"Sorry, sorry," she said hurriedly, hating herself for capitulating but reminding herself that _of course_ comparison to their mother would offend Michael. After all, he was solidly Team Dad. She put a gentling hand on her brother's arm and he returned to the bench, his posture suggesting ruffled feathers and mantled wings. "I just don't know which child you mean. Is it one of the kids from Saint Brennan's?"

Michael shook his head, still bristling. "The one who lives here."

Azrael nodded, carefully pulling her hand away from Michael's arm. "Okay, she's Trixie. And her father is Dan." She wondered, biting back on a moment of hysteria, if Michael knew what - who - Dan had been doing. Best not to mention it. Discretion, she decided, was the better part of valor.

"Yes," Michael agreed, unbending a little. "That one. Bring him some pudding."

Azrael stared at her brother in disbelief. "So I'm finally getting specific instructions from our father and it has to do with _pudding_?"

Michael inclined his head, adding, "Make it yourself. Butterscotch."

"Butterscotch?" Azrael repeated, incredulous. "Why does it matter if I make it myself?" Though, really, she didn't mind so much. It was just... really? Pudding? Michael didn't reply, and Azrael asked, "Does it have to be right now? I'm keeping tabs on Trixie tonight while Chloe goes out." She paused, then added, "With _Ella_." After taking another moment to decide that Michael could decide for himself where he stood on the whole discretion/valor line, she concluded, "And Mazikeen." Well, and Linda, too, of course, though Linda seemed the least likely of the four women to complicate this particular situation.

Michael regarded her with some confusion. "Why are you telling me this? And, yes, the pudding can wait."

Azrael sighed. "Brother, if you can't figure it out for yourself, I'm certainly not going to be the one to tell you."

Michael looked puzzled for another moment, and then his expression cleared. "Ah. Well. I, uh, see." He paused, then asked, "Will you be there?"

Azrael shook her head. "Watching Trixie, remember? Plus, I don't have a fake ID," she quipped. She could almost see the wheels turning in Michael's head: a chance to talk with the fascinating human without having to worry about his little sister interfering. "Don't forget Mazikeen," she prompted.

"I can handle the demon," Michael replied dismissively.

"In public?" Azrael asked, all innocence. "In front of plenty of humans, including Ella?"

Michael sighed in exasperation, then got to his feet. "I have to go," he muttered.

"Wait," Azrael said, and Michael turned "Do you need any money?" When her brother looked blankly at her Azrael clarified, "Currency. What the humans use to buy things."

"I know what money is, little sister," Michael replied, a flicker of irritation in his voice. "I'm just not sure why I'd need it."

Azrael exhaled a long sigh. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a wallet. Taking out a few bills, she offered them to Michael, explaining patiently, "If you go talk to Ella, offer to buy her a drink."

Michael looked blankly at the offered money. "But what if she's not thirsty?"

Azrael closed her eyes. "Dad, is this a test? Can he possibly be this -" She cut off her words, opened her eyes, and stuffed the bills into Michael's hand. "Just say, 'Can I buy you a drink?' and then, if she says yes, buy her a drink. If Mazikeen is there, ask Ella to go to another table. And whatever happens, be nice to Ella." There was a note of warning in her voice, but Michael, remembering that she would not always be in this body, didn't smile.

A little puzzled, Michael replied, "Of course I'll be nice to her." He frowned a little, then stuffed the money in his pocket. "Thank you," he said finally, turning to go.

Azrael called after Michael, "Is that what you're wearing?" and then stifled a laugh at his annoyed grunt. She waved brightly after him, though she sat forward to watch as Chloe and Trixie approached from the other direction. Looking flustered, Michael brushed past them while also trying to get a look at Chloe.

"Rae!" Trixie called, dashing the last several feet to plunk down next to Azrael on the bench. "That guy was weird," she added, leaning against her friend to peer after Michael.

"Tell me about it," Azrael agreed, though not without a smile.

Chloe turned back from her own study of Michael to ask Azrael, brows lifting, "Friend of yours?"

Azrael shook her head. "That," she replied, "Is my brother Michael."

Chloe looked after him once more. " _That_ Michael?" Azrael nodded. "Huh. I thought he'd be taller."

Trixie brightened. "Is he a -" She crossed her hands, linked her thumbs, and wiggled her fingers like wings, expression expectant.

Azrael nodded, still looking amused by Chloe's comment. "But he can't take you flying," she added, a note of apology in her voice.

Trixie sighed, but something that minor couldn't keep her down for long.

"What was he doing here?" Chloe asked. "C'mon, Monkey. Let's get inside."

Trixie hopped up obediently and Azrael climbed to her feet and followed the others into the apartment. "It's okay," she reassured. "He just came to chat. And I doubt he'll come back here tonight, not that he'd cause trouble. I mentioned that Ella was going to be out and about tonight, and he seemed interested in maybe going to talk to her. You might want to give Mazikeen a heads-up on that, though. Best not to let Michael catch her unaware."

Chloe snorted as she closed the door behind them. "You want me to tell my roommate, a demon, that your angel brother might crash girls' night? Yeah, no. You handle that one yourself."

"You'd be doing me a huge favor," Azrael wheedled.

"Favors are Lucifer's thing, Rae," Trixie informed her in a sing-song as she dumped her backpack on the breakfast bar.

Azrael peered at her small friend, caught between amusement and exasperation. "Did Mazikeen tell you that?"

"Yep!" Trixie grinned. Curious, she asked, "Does Maze not like your brother?"

Chloe started with dinner prep and Azrael came around to help, washing her hands, selecting a knife and starting to chop vegetables for the salad. "They've never met, far as I know," Azrael replied, "but probably not."

"Because Maze is chocolate and your brother is vanilla?" Trixie asked artlessly, remembering the demon's cake analogy.

Azrael's knife paused in its motion. She took a breath and shot Chloe a look of profound amusement; the detective suddenly remembered - again - that, despite her size, this was no child next to her. "Yeah," Azrael agreed as she finished with the carrots, her knife-work quick and deft. "If Michael is anything, he's definitely vanilla."

Chloe made a face at Azrael. "Cute." She tasted the sauce, then rummaged for spices. She didn't have the time or energy for homemade, but could doctor Prego with the best of them. "So Michael, is he... interested in Ella?" she queried.

Azrael considered and rejected an onion, then took up the broccoli instead. "I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, Dad has certain rules about, um." She glanced at Trixie, who was listening intently, then added, "I think he's curious about her. Not sure how much interaction he's had with humans, but definitely not a lot."

"So he's probably not looking for..." Chloe lifted her eyebrows meaningfully.

Azrael looked over in time to catch the gesture. "I highly doubt it." She sighed. "I'd better let Mazikeen know." She set aside the knife and pulled out her phone, then, with a look of inspiration, fired off a text.

"Coward," Chloe murmured, earning herself an amused look from Azrael.

"The valiant never taste of death but once, but once is plenty," Azrael quipped, reaching for the knife. "Sometimes cowardice is -"

Her phone rang before she finished the grab for the knife. She winced at the ring tone - the Imperial March from _Star Wars_ \- and visibly considered not answering.

"Busted!" Trixie called, looking up from her backpack with a grin.

"Do you really want her tracking you down?" Chloe queried, amused by Azrael's hesitation.

Azrael sighed and accepted the call. "Yes?" she asked, keeping her voice as smooth as possible.

"Is this a present, Fun Size?" Maze asked brightly. "Is your brother Michael really going to cause trouble tonight?"

"That's not what I said," Azrael replied quickly, not without a trace of irritation for the nickname. "He might show up to talk to Ella, that's all. Trouble is highly unlikely. Mazikeen, please don't start anything."

Sounding a little disgusted, Maze replied, "Why not?"

"That whole not revealing yourselves to humans thing?" Azrael suggested, with taut patience.

Unconcerned, the demon replied, "That's your dad's rule. It doesn't apply to me. Plus, I can take Michael without revealing anything."

"Honestly, I almost want to know what would happen," Azrael said crisply. "Especially since it would shut up the both of you."

"Did he say something?" Maze demanded. "Does he think - hang on." A flash of violence and laughter sounded from Maze's end of the conversation. After a moment, punctuated by a few thumps and then swearing in a voice that was definitely not the demon's, Maze came back on the line. "Shut up! Not you, TD. Does your idiot brother actually think he can take me?"

Azrael offered mildly, "I could have called you back."

Maze exhaled a derisive huff, and Azrael could all but hear her smirk. "I don't need both hands to deal with this scumbag. Now. Your idiot brother."

"I don't think he'll start anything, Mazikeen," Azrael offered, conscious of Trixie's fascinated eyes on her as she spoke, of Chloe's silent attention. "He just might want to talk to Ella, that's all."

There was more scuffing noise and then the sound of a car door closing. "Fine. _If_ Ella wants to talk to him even though the Tribe isn't about that, I won't do anything in public unless he tries something. But if he does, I'm absolutely finishing things. Are we clear?"

"We're clear. And that seems fair."

There was another thump from the demon's side of the conversation, and then the call ended.

"I always think she's going to be angry, and she almost never is," Azrael mused, taking up the knife and going back to the salad prep.

Chloe looked over, offering, "She's really grown." She stirred the spaghetti sauce, then asked, "We likely to run into trouble tonight?"

Azrael shook her head. "I doubt it, not from Michael. He can be a little obnoxious, especially to his siblings, but he'd never cause harm to come to a human. And Mazikeen said she won't start anything. If you're worried, go to Lux." Chloe looked like she was about to protest, and Azrael added, "Michael would be even less likely to try something on Lucifer's turf. Might not even show up." She reached for the cucumber, adding, "And if something does happen - which is highly unlikely - Lucifer has excellent liability insurance."

"That's not exactly reassuring, Rae," Chloe said dryly.

Azrael grinned as she assembled the salad. "Two not-nices and one not-reassuring today. Looks like we're going for a record. But if you do go to Lux, maybe give Lucifer a heads-up on the situation? Just in case."

Chloe nodded.

"Who said you're not nice?" Trixie demanded, offended on her friend's behalf.

"Lucifer and Michael, but it's okay," Azrael reassured. "They were kidding."

Dinner came together quickly and soon the trio was sitting around the table. Azrael closed her eyes and said a quick, silent grace, then looked up to see Trixie watching her curiously.

"You were saying thank you?" Trixie queried. When Azrael nodded, she clarified, "To your dad?" Azrael nodded again, and Trixie observed, "But he didn't make dinner. You and Mommy did, and I helped."

Azrael smiled as she dished up some pasta. "You and Lucifer, I swear. I'm grateful to your mom - and to you, too - but I thank my father because everything comes from him." Seeing Trixie frown a little, she added, "He made everything."

Trixie shook her head. "Mommy and Daddy made me," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "Maze explained it all last week. I can tell you _all_ ab- are you okay, Mommy?"

That, of course, was in response to Chloe all but choking on her drink as she imagined what details the demon could have given.

"She's fine," Azrael reassured, after a glance to make sure Chloe was, in fact, okay. "And you don't need to give me the sex talk, Trixie, but thanks. Probably shouldn't share that information on the playground, either."

"No," Chloe agreed, once she did regained her breath. "That's something kids should hear about from their moms or dads."

"Or their demons," Trixie added brightly, pouring somewhat more raspberry vinaigrette than necessary on her salad.

Chloe rubbed a hand across her forehead, but agreed, with a sigh, "Or their demons."

Trixie spiraled spaghetti onto her fork, but considered it before asking Azrael, "Should I thank your dad? For dinner?"

Azrael flicked a glance to Chloe, who shrugged. Azrael replied, "It's up to you. He won't get mad or anything if you don't."

Fork poised, sauce dripping onto the plate as well as the table, Trixie asked, "Would he like it if I said thank you?"

Azrael pursed her lips as she considered her answer, then went with the neutral, "In general, being polite is a good thing - definitely not always - but Dad... doesn't always hear."

Trixie nodded agreeably, then shouted at the ceiling, possibly thinking that volume would make it more likely that her words would be heard, "Thanks for dinner, Rae's dad!" Chloe shushed her, smiling, with a murmur about the neighbors. Trixie added at a slightly lower volume, though her words were still directed ceilingwards, "Can we have pizza tomorrow?"

Azrael, finally starting on her own meal, offered, "You might want to check with your own parents on that one. Dad doesn't tend to deal with the little details like that, even for people on reality TV - I still can't get over how many people seem to think he watches that stuff, as much as they ask him for help." She paused as she remembered the pudding she would be making and amended, a little sourly, "Usually."

Trixie swiped at the sauce on the table with her napkin, then asked, "What _should_ I ask him for, if I need to ask Mommy about pizza tomorrow?" She turned big, brown eyes on her mother, who conceded a murmured "We'll see," to Trixie's delight. The girl stage whispered to Azrael, "That means yes."

Azrael took a long moment to chew her salad, having taken a particularly large bite. That earned her an amused look from Chloe, who was glad she wasn't fielding these questions. "Does you mom ever go soak in the bathtub, maybe with some music and some bubble bath?"

Chloe looked up to find herself regarded by two sets of brown eyes, one amused, one quizzical.

"No," Trixie replied.

"Ha, I'm not surprised." Azrael smiled at Chloe. "You should. It's nice." Turning back to Trixie, she added, "Okay, imagine if she did. Armageddon is nigh; your mother is relaxing - don't look at me like that, Chloe; you could relax if you tried hard enough. Though I guess having to work at it defeats the whole purpose." She grinned at the detective, who muttered something about Azrael sounding like Lucifer, then turned back to Trixie. "Would you want to interrupt her if you... I don't know, if you couldn't decide what shirt you wanted to wear tomorrow?" Trixie giggled and shook her head. "Okay, what if the house was on fire?" Trixie nodded emphatically. Azrael explained, "It's better to ask Dad about the bigger things, not the ones you can handle on your own."

"So G-god is in the tub?" Chloe asked, only stumbling a little on the name.

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Well, it would explain a lot."

Trixie, apparently through with philosophy for the time being, offered brightly, "Mommy, I'll bet Rae hasn't ever had cotton candy ice cream. We should go get some after dinner." She spiraled the last of her spaghetti on her fork, then added, "With rainbow sprinkles!"

"Actually, Maze and I are going to meet up with Ella and Doctor Linda tonight, if Maze finishes catching her bad guy," Chloe replied. "So no ice cream tonight, Monkey."

"Pretty sure she caught him," Azrael murmured.

Looking a little disappointed, Trixie asked, "Is a babysitter coming?"

Shaking her head, Chloe replied, "No, you and Rae are going to be on your own." She did not miss the look of conspiratorial delight that Trixie sent to Azrael, and cautioned, "Trixie..."

"We'll be good," Trixie replied, too quickly.

"We will," Azrael repeated, somewhat more reassuringly. "Go get ready. We'll clean up."

Trixie looked briefly dismayed, but, already plotting her evening of fun, hopped up to clear her plate. "Wear something pretty!" she advised, before making her way into the kitchen.

Chloe regarded Azrael, who extended her hand for Chloe's plate. "Not always good to be polite?"

"Thought you caught that." Azrael accepted the plate with a shrug. "Your society teaches girls to be nice. Maybe it shouldn't."

Chloe couldn't argue with that. She watched Azrael follow Trixie into the kitchen, still not entirely sure that leaving was a good idea, but then took herself off to get ready.


	49. Chapter 49

Chloe, still fretting over what might be happening at home, made her way into the bar. Trixie had stopped her whispered urgings to Azrael to call a cheerful farewell to her mother; the angel, up to her elbows in dishes, hadn't waved, but had offered a reassuring smile before asking Trixie to grab a cloth and start drying.

Well. At least the dishes would be done. That was more than ever happened when Maze watched Trixie.

Chloe and Linda had decided over the phone that keeping a certain amount of distance between Lucifer and his brother was probably the wiser course, so they were at a smaller bar instead of Lux. Honestly, she preferred this quieter place, as it was easier to talk; the earlier parts of these get-togethers often turned into group therapy sessions, particularly when, as on this occasion, Maze arrived a little later than the humans.

Ella and Linda were already at a table; the tech smiled and waved to Chloe. Chloe made her way over to them, sitting next to Ella.

Linda looked over with some concern at Chloe's expression. "What's wrong?" she asked, handing over a drink.

"Nothing," Chloe replied quickly, though she took the drink with a murmur of thanks and downed a quick gulp.

"Right," Ella said, with amused skepticism. "What is it?"

Chloe sighed and took a smaller sip of her drink before replying, "Rae is watching Trixie tonight. I'm just worried that they might get into trouble."

Ella peered at her in some puzzlement. "You've got an angel watching your kid, and you're worried?"

"Okay, when you put it like that..." Chloe shook her head. "It's just that I'm pretty sure Trixie is going to try and convince Rae to do something they shouldn't."

Ella shook her head. "They'll be fine," she said brightly. "Look, the biggest issue is that you might come home to a kitchen full of baked goods. I mean, seriously, I think Rae is, like, a stress baker or something. I told her I had to start taking the cookies and stuff into the precinct, otherwise I'm going to grow out of all my clothes."

Linda chuckled. "So having an angel for a roommate is working out?"

Ella shook her head, saying, "Yeah, but it's a little strange sometimes. Older than humanity, sure, but there are things she doesn't get. Like, cinnamon rolls in a tube totally blew her mind. And we went out to eat earlier this week and they gave us one of those coaster things to call us when out table was ready. Rae was holding it, and she jumped about a foot when it started buzzing and all."

"See, and that's what I'm worried about," Chloe said with a sigh.

Linda peered at her in puzzlement. "Vibrating coasters?"

Ella queried, amazed, "You have that dream, too?" When she found herself the recipient of two curious looks, she said, "Apparently not. Okay, then! What's got you worried, Chloe?"

"That Trix is going to suggest something stupid and Rae will go along with it because it doesn't occur to her not to," Chloe replied, frowning. "I mean, she really likes making Trixie happy."

Linda observed shrewdly, "She'd rather Trixie be safe, and she values your trust. I really think they'll be fine, but if you feel like you need to go check on them, Chloe..."

Chloe shook her head. "No," she said, straightening. "No, they'll be okay. Angel, older than humanity... Rae can handle one little girl."

Ella stared at Chloe for a moment before asking, mostly in jest, "Seriously, don't you watch horror movies? You don't say stuff like that."

Chloe wrinkled her nose, though she had to concede the point.

Linda chuckled, then turned to Ella. "If you ever want to send any angelic baked goods my way, I can definitely find a home for them, particularly if they involve chocolate."

Ella nodded, with a quick smile. "Absolutely." She shook her head, her expression gone reflective, then added, "Seriously, everybody should come over for dinner sometime, because Rae can *cook*. I'm just glad she's footing the grocery bill, 'cause she has expensive taste. She's kicking in for rent, too, which is helping a lot. I didn't want to take her money, but then she showed me her balance online." The tech let out a low whistle. "I stopped arguing after that."

Linda offered, "She's had a while to let her investments build."

Ella nodded. "That's an understatement."

"She said you guys have been watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Chloe said, looking amused.

"Yeah," Ella replied, bubbling with enthusiasm. "We're almost to the part where Dawn shows up. I can't wait to see her face! It's going to blow her mind!"

Linda and Chloe exchanged look of rather baffled amusement, and Ella launched into an animated explanation of that particular Buffy plot line, telling really far more than either of her table mates wanted to know. Chloe let the tech's words wash over her, nodding at appropriate intervals, though she occasionally scanned the bar.

"Maze is on the way," Linda said, setting aside her phone after checking a text

"Good. I need to have a little chat with her." Chloe glanced around the bar, then turned to Ella. "So Michael might come tonight, just so you know."

Ella looked blankly between the other women. "Michael? Michael who?"

"Lucifer and Azrael's brother," Linda supplied. She rubbed lightly at her temple, murmuring, "This is my life now. Random archangels might just... stop by. Sure. Totally normal."

" _That_ Michael?" Ella's eyes widened a little. "Why would he come here?" Linda and Chloe exchanged a look, then turned back to Ella. "To see me?" Lowering her voice, she said, "But he's a... _you know_."

"Rae is a little confused about his intentions, too, if that makes you feel any better," Chloe offered.

Ella nodded, still looking puzzled. "Intentions? Like _intentions_ intentions? I'm not really looking for anybody right now, even though Michael is interesting. I mean... angel, right? Archangel!" She shook her head, looking a little thrown, but faintly pleased as well.

"He might not even show up," Chloe reassured. "And if you don't want to talk to him, just say the word."

Ella smiled a little. "I didn't say that," she replied, pulling her drink closer. "I mean, how often am I going to get a chance like this?"

"More often than you might think, with this family," Linda murmured, making a face.

Chloe turned to Linda. "So we'll have to keep Maze from causing trouble - though she did tell Rae she wouldn't start anything."

Linda nodded, with a small frown. "She's just too good at ending things."

Ella leaned forward, trying to be casual as she surveyed the bar and not entirely succeeding. Seeing the other women's amused expressions, she settled back in her chair, intentionally focusing on her friends. "How was your day?" she asked, looking between Chloe and Linda.

Chloe sighed. "Lucifer _would not_ stop talking about this barista from Beelzebean."

"Alex?" Maze queried, sliding into the seat next to Linda's. "Well, no wonder. I mean, come on, have you seen her butt?" The demon pursed her lips, apparently picturing the butt in question.

Chloe stared at Maze. "Is there some supernatural butt-radar you guys all have? Or maybe there's a new app you're are all on, for butt-ogling?

"No, but I would totally use that app," Maze replied, with a wink. "Did Michael show?"

"Not yet," Linda replied.

Turning to Ella, Maze said intently, "I can kick his ass for you if you want. Just say the word."

"Thanks," Ella replied, sounding honestly flattered. "I'm good, though."

Maze sighed, clearly disappointed, though she told Ella, "The offer's always open."

"There he is." Chloe's voice was low, but it caught her tablemates' attention; the other three turned to follow the direction of her gaze.

There was Michael, his posture uncertain until he spotted Ella and crossed to stand by their table. He'd changed his clothes, Chloe noticed with amusement, and was now wearing a dark green button-down. It looked nice on him, but Chloe decided that Lucifer had the better tailor.

"Hello." The angel shifted from foot to foot, hovering - figuratively - near Ella's elbow.

"Hi," Ella replied, with a bright grin. "Michael. Uh, this is Chloe and Linda, and I guess you know Maze?"

A certain hauteur flicked across Michael's face as he looked down upon the demon, the expression quick but noticeable if one was watching him, which Chloe was. "By reputation." He pulled on a smile to address the other two. "It's nice to meet you, after all that I've heard about you.

Maze exhaled a huff and pointedly ignored Michael.

Chloe and Linda exchanged glances, then the latter said, her voice carefully neutral, "You've heard of us?"

Michael nodded, replying vaguely, "There's quite the buzz upstairs." He turned back to Ella. "So. Uh. Can I buy you a drink?" He glanced briefly at Maze and then gestured to a table partway across the room. "Over there?"

The four women looked to the indicated table, then back to Michael.

"Why over there?" Maze queried, her voice heavy with suspicion.

Michael didn't quite look at her as he replied, "Azrael said I should ask Ella to go to another table if you were here. I think she's trying to prevent mayhem."

Maze sighed. "Spoilsport."

Michael actually appeared to agree with the demon. He didn't comment, instead turning to Ella, suddenly looking a little concerned. "Was it inappropriate to ask to buy you a drink. I thought Azrael was being sincere, but -"

"Totally inappropriate," Maze deadpanned, as Michael's eyes widened. "In fact, really offensive, so -"

"No, Rae's right," Ella interrupted, giving Maze a look of amused exasperation. Turning back to Michael, she added. "Seriously, dude, you're fine. It's totally appropriate."

Michael's right hand twitched at his hip as he looked at the demon, and Maze stiffened, her attention focusing on the angel. Slowly, he relaxed, and the demon settled back in her chair.

"That was too easy," Maze said smugly. "Seriously, did you see his face?"

Chloe, looking exasperated, muttered, "One of you just pee a circle around her already." At the twin looks of outrage from demon and angel, she couldn't help but smile, breaking into a laugh at Ella's embarrassed, "Jeez, Chloe."

The tech flicked a sudden, concerned look to the archangel at her near-blasphemy, but he didn't seem to take note of it.

Linda murmured to Maze, "Did Ella just call the Archangel Michael _dude_?"

Maze replied, at somewhat louder volume, "Nicer than what I'd call him."

Michael shifted his gaze to the peanut gallery, brows lifting slightly. "Sorry," Linda murmured, though Maze responded only with a challenging stare, which Michael returned in kind.

"So that other table looks _awesome_ ," Ella said firmly. "And a drink sounds great, thank you." And she headed toward the other table, apparently expecting Michael to follow, which, after maintaining eye contact with Maze for a moment longer, he did.

"Wimp," Maze said, though not too loudly. She watched the pair seat themselves at the other table. As Michael began to speak, too far away for them to hear, the demon adopted a rather nasal tone. "Hi, my name is Michael and I'm a giant tool."

"Maze," Linda reproved, though her lips curved despite herself.

"You're right," the demon agreed, smirking. "If Mikey-boy has any sort of tool, it's definitely not giant. I'm surprised it hasn't fallen off, 'cause you know he isn't using it."

"Maze," Linda repeated, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Have a drink."

Maze glanced at her. "C'mon, Linda," she wheedled. "Do Ella. Use your Dr. Feelgood voice. What's she saying to old Mikey-boy?"

Laughing, Linda shook her head. "Oh, no," she said, extending the vowels just a bit. "You're not dragging me into this, Maze. I don't have it in me to mock a celestial being."

"Aw, Linda -"

"Hey. Maze." The faint edge to Chloe's tone was enough to draw the demon's attention away from further attempts to get Linda to participate in her mockery. She'd spent enough time with Lucifer to pick up on his distractionary tactics, after all. "What's this about you telling my kid about sex?"

Maze made a short, derisive sound, though her gaze flicked back to Michael and Ella. "Why didn't you tell her already? She's old enough."

"I did," Chloe replied. "I mean, the basics. I didn't want her finding out about it on the internet. But you didn't have to give her... details. She said you told her all about it."

Maze sighed, a little exasperated, though she looked at Chloe rather than at Michael and Ella. "Let me guess what you told her - when a mommy human and a daddy human love each other very much..." Her voice took on a higher pitch and a saccharine tone.

"I don't sound like that," Chloe retorted, though without heat.

Lifting her eyes skyward, Maze challenged, "How do you think our conversation went, Decker?"

"I honestly don't know," Chloe replied, "But if you brought up sex swings, Maze, so help me..."

Relenting, Maze said, "Come on, Decker. You don't think I gave her, like, a blow-by-blow, do you?" She nudged Linda lightly, her expression saying, _Do you see what I did there?_ and the therapist stifled a laugh. The demon concluded, more seriously, "I just answered her questions. There was a little about the mechanics. And we talked about how people saying that someone picking on her means they like her is bullshit; you don't want to be with someone who hurts you." She paused, her lips curling upward, "Well, unless you're into that. Relax, Decker," she added, laughing as Chloe started to protest. "I didn't say _that_. She'll have to learn that one from the internet."

"Has that been an issue?" Chloe queried, suddenly concerned. "Boys in her class being jerks?" As Maze lifted a particularly judgmental eyebrow, Chloe amended, "Or girls?"

"No," Maze replied. "I would have told you, since I'm pretty sure you'd want to participate in that particular conversation. It was just hypothetical."

Chloe looked for a moment like she wanted to launch into full-on interrogation mode to find out what questions, exactly, Trixie had asked, but then shook her head. Trixie clearly hadn't been traumatized by the conversation, and Maze obviously wouldn't react well to interrogation, so she let it go, though not without a sigh. "I'll get the next round."

* * *

Michael returned to the table with Ella's drink - she'd had to explain the process of going to the bar and getting it - looking a little dubious about the fruit garnish, or perhaps about the color. "Is it supposed to look like this?" he queried as he put the drink in front of the tech.

"Yeah, it's perfect, thanks," Ella replied, though she added, puzzled, "You didn't get anything for yourself?"

A flicker of relief crossed the angel's face, and then he shook his head. "My father has certain rules," he explained.

"But Lucifer drinks all the time," Ella said, brows furrowed.

"Well," Michael began, looking a little uncomfortable.

Ella's expression cleared. "Oh. Devil, right. The whole rebellious son thing. Got it." She pulled the garnish out of the drink and then glanced up with a small frown. "So God doesn't like drinking?"

"It's okay for mortals," Michael reassured. "Especially with Yeshua's ritual, he could hardly forbid it."

"Yeshua's... oh, communion, right. You could have gotten water or something, though," Ella said, with a quick smile. "There goes my line," she added. "I was going to ask if you come here often."

"This plane?" Michael replied blankly.

"No, bars," Ella replied. She slid the fruit off her swizzle stick onto a cocktail napkin, murmuring, "That wasn't awkward or anything."

But Michael was staring at the swizzle stick, which was shaped like a sword. "Your drink came with tiny weaponry," he said, clearly delighted. He glanced back toward the bar, as if weighing whether he would like to wait in line again just to get a small sword.

Ella nodded, smiling fondly. "Yeah, my littlest niece is obsessed with them. I bought her a whole box for her last birthday and you should have seen her face." Catching sight of Michael's expression, she extended the small, blue sword. "Here, take it."

Michael hesitated, though he clearly wanted to accept. "I'd hate to deprive your niece."

"Please," Ella replied, her hand still extended. "My brother is so sick of these things. Honestly," she admitted, with a quick grin, "half of the fun of giving them to her is that it annoys him."

"You're speaking of an older brother, yes?" Michael queried. When Ella nodded, laughing, he took the sword. "Then thank you, and I'm glad to spare your brother this trial." His tone made it clear that he knew all about the tribulations of younger sisters.

"Aw, come on," Ella said with a smile. "Rae's a sweetheart."

With an agreeable shrug, Michael replied, "To you, perhaps. But she has had millenia to perfect the art of tormenting her elders."

Still looking amused, Ella said, "Well, I'll be sure to tell my brother who spared him further plastic swords - actually, maybe not. It might be a little too much for him. I mean, he believes, but..." She gestured at Michael.

His expression understanding, Michael replied, "It can be a bit overwhelming to come face to face with your faith, say over drinks?" He paused, took in the table and the lone beverage, and amended, "Drink."

"Yes!" Looking a little relieved, Ella said, "I mean, I have so many questions. I don't want to ask Lucifer because of the whole rebellion thing, and Rae seems to be struggling a little with her task, and I don't want to add to that, but, well, here you are." She took a breath, bringing her ramble to an end as she regarded the angel.

"Here I am," Michael agreed softly.

"Why _are_ you here?" Ella thought to ask. "I mean, not that I mind or anything, but it's a little weird."

Michael frowned over his answer. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted. Then he brightened a little as he thought of a reason for his presence. "But I wanted to tell you that Yeshua is arranging for me to get a... that curved weapon." His hand moved briefly, but he did not complete any apparently-suggestive gestures.

"A bat'leth?" Ella queried, full of enthusiasm. "Dude, that is so great! I mean, I can't use one, but I'll bet you can, right?

"Bat'leth," Michael repeated, nodding. "And, well, I haven't tried, but I assume I'll be able to get the way of it. I've used many mortal weapons."

Ella murmured under her breath, "This is really weird." Raising her voice, she added, "Which was your favorite?"

"It depends on the use," Michael replied, warming to his subject. "For fun, the naginata."

"Oh," Ella brightened. "Like Nakano Takeko."

Looking pleased, Michael said, "You've heard of her?"

Nodding, Ella replied, "I saw this documentary on her life. The way she had her sister cut off her head, so her enemies wouldn't take it as a trophy... she was a total badass." She winced a little, adding, "Language... sorry."

Michael waved a hand dismissively. "It's accurate. The thing about the naginata is..." He looked prepared to go on at length about the pole weapon, then reined himself in, a bit sheepish. "But I can go on about weaponry. I don't think that's the sort of question you were hoping I would answer."

Ella grinned. "It's interesting, but, no, not really." When Michael gestured that she should continue, she looked a little overwhelmed for a moment, then blurted, "Is there chocolate in Heaven?"

* * *

"Okay, she's been over there long enough," Maze said irritably. She started to rise, but Linda put her hand on the demon's arm.

"Give her a few more minutes," Linda urged.

Maze exhaled an annoyed sigh. "Why should I?"

"Didn't you tell Rae you wouldn't start anything?" Chloe queried.

"I just don't know what she sees in him," Maze muttered, ignoring Chloe's question.

Linda studied the pair. "They seem to be friendly enough."

"Michael's an asshole," Maze retorted. "Ella _shouldn't_ like him." Turning to Linda, she challenged, "I _know_ Lucifer's brought him up in therapy."

Chloe looked over with interest; sighing, Linda replied, "You know I can't talk about that, Maze."

The demon turned to Chloe, saying firmly, "That means yes," and for a moment the detective was reminded of her daughter using that exact phrase, earlier in the day. There really were similarities, she decided, between the demon and the eight year-old. No wonder they got along so well.

Chloe looked over at the angel and the tech, then back to Maze. "Would you like me to go see if she'll come back over here?" she asked, trying not to sound like she was humoring the demon and not entirely succeeding.

Maze gave Chloe a suspicious look. "Yes," she replied, her voice just a little sharp.

Chloe got to her feet and made her way to the table. Michael appeared to be in the middle of an animated story, which Ella was listening to with all apparent fascination, but he broke it off to greet Chloe, "Hello, detective."

Chloe didn't understand the sudden surge of wrongness she felt at Michael's greeting. She had come to associate that particular title with Lucifer; the angel's intonation was similar to his brother's, but just off enough to worm its way under her skin. Chloe couldn't entirely keep her irritation out of her manner as she asked Ella, "You guys about done here?"

Ella, picking up on Chloe's manner, looked a little puzzled, and cast a quick glance back to Maze and Linda. The therapist offered a small finger-wave, while the demon just smirked, mouthing something that Ella didn't quite catch, but that she assumed involved either sex or violence. "Yeah, I guess so," Ella replied.

Michael looked over to the other table as well, a certain set to his jaw that Chloe recognized from Lucifer at his most stubborn. "This is coming from that demon -" he started, clearly meaning to insult Maze but Chloe didn't let him continue.

"No," she said sharply. "This is coming from _our friend Maze_ , who is feeling a little annoyed that you interrupted girls' night. And maybe she's not the only one."

"I didn't realize -" Michael began stiffly, but Chloe again interrupted.

"That's fine, we get that, but when you start throwing around your celestial prejudices, that's not okay," the detective said flatly.

Ella, apparently agreeing with Chloe, got to her feet and moved to stand next to the detective. "Maze has my back," she said, without apology. "And I have hers."

Chloe slung her arm around Ella - apparently she was feeling the alcohol just a bit - and the pair made their way back to Linda and Maze.

"Did you have fun?" the therapist asked.

"Yeah," Ella admitted. "But I'll have more fun now."

When Chloe glanced over her shoulder, Michael was gone.

* * *

Chloe stepped quietly into her apartment. The television flickered, though the sound was low and the picture showed the menu for Kiki's Delivery Service, as if the movie had already played through. Seeing the pale bundle on the couch, she crossed around to see Trixie sound asleep, sprawled with her head on Azrael's chest and enfolded in the angel's wings. Azrael blinked at her, looking as if she had just woken, and there was a soft, familiar snick of metal on metal.

"Hey," Azrael greeted softly. "Sorry. Thought you were Mazikeen."

"Maze didn't want the night to end just yet; I think she found some company." The sound registered, and Chloe surged forward. "Do you have a knife?" she hissed. Azrael made a gesture, half nod, half shrug. "And you were going to stab my roommate? With my kid in the room?"

"Please," Azrael replied with a touch of scorn, and Chloe relaxed, but only for a moment, as Azrael continued, "In this body? I'm not fast enough to get close enough to her, but after the workout we had yesterday, she'd kick my ass next time if I didn't at least make an attempt. I'd like as few bruises as possible."

Chloe groaned. Here, in fact, was a prime example of what she'd worried would happen. "Seriously, Rae? No. No knives. Not around Trixie."

Azrael studied her for a moment, then conceded, "Your kid, your rules. But you're wasting a valuable resource. Maze would get a kick out of training her, and she'd be far nicer to Trixie than she is to me."

Chloe sighed. "Rae -" she began.

"It doesn't even have to be knife-work," Azrael persisted.

"Look, Rae -"

"I just want her to be safe." Azrael didn't meet Chloe's gaze, and her wings settled more closely around the little girl.

Perching on an arm of the couch, Chloe asked, "Hey, do you know something you're not telling me?"

Azrael shook her head, lifting her brown eyes. "No. Or, well, yes, I know a lot of things I'm not telling, most of which you wouldn't care to know. Older than humanity means lots of knowledge that's pretty much useless in the here-and-now, like how many obols make a drachma. But nothing that would suggest that Trixie _needs_ that sort of training. I just... I don't know. I'm paranoid. Sorry."

Chloe smiled. "Don't be sorry for wanting Trixie to be safe. Maybe I'll talk to Maze about it."

Azrael nodded. "Thanks. Now, if you wouldn't mind?" She disappeared her wings, and Trixie grumbled in her sleep. "She crashed during the movie, and I knew I'd never get her to bed without waking her."

Chloe smiled. "She's getting a little big for me to manage, too. Thanks for getting her in her pajamas, though. That simplifies things." Still, manage she did. After getting Trixie settled in bed, she came back to find Azrael still on the couch, though the television had been turned off. The kitchen, she noted, was cleaner than it had been that morning. She investigated a Tupperware on the counter. "Cookies?" she asked, amused.

"Brownies," Azrael replied. "With peanut butter chips in them. Homework's done, and I'll replace the vase we broke. Trixie said it wasn't an heirloom or anything." Noting Chloe's raised eyebrows, she added, just a bit defensively, "I knocked it over. I didn't realize I was ticklish, okay? Please don't tell Lucifer. He'd never let me live it down."

"No problem," Chloe replied, biting back a smile. It occurred to her to ask, her expression sobering, "Older than humanity, and you didn't realize you were ticklish?"

Azrael shrugged. "Nobody tried to tickle me before." Catching sight of Chloe's face, she sighed. "Oh. I see what Lucifer means about the whole pity thing. Don't, okay? My family's messed up by human standards, I get it." She paused then amended, "By any standards. Not being tickled, in the grand scheme of things, is small potatoes."

Chloe considered that and nodded. "Yeah, you're right," she agreed, though not without a sigh. "Anything else happen tonight?"

Azrael nodded, her quick smile holding an edge of relief that Cloe was letting the subject drop, "Yes. Your daughter is extremely persuasive, but I chose not to let her use Kool-Aid to dye my wings. She may complain about that tomorrow."

Laughing, Chloe said, "What, you don't want pink wings?"

"No," Azrael replied firmly. "I also wouldn't enjoy smelling of fruit punch every time I flew, thank you very much." She took a deep breath and approached the elephant in the room. "So what happened?"

"Michael came," Chloe replied, and Azrael sat up a little straighter. Chloe reassured, "Nobody started anything." She recapped the evening, though she left out the bit at the end where Linda ended up having to make sure Ella got home all right, as the tech had had more pina coladas than perhaps had been entirely wise. "Maybe," she concluded, "Sending your brother wasn't the best idea."

"Maybe not," Azrael agreed, her expression troubled. "Is Ella okay?"

Chloe nodded. "It's not easy to see one of the paragons of your religion being a jerk, but she's fine."

Looking thoughtful, Azrael asked, "Was Michael angry? He wouldn't do anything to any of you - well, not you humans, and Mazikeen can take care of herself - but I'd rather know if I should watch my back."

Chloe considered her answer. "Annoyed, but not angry. Kind of like we'd taken his toy away."

"That," Azrael said wryly, "Is likely a disturbingly accurate description."

"Detective," Chloe replied, with a smile and a small shrug. She made her way over to the Tupperware and took out a brownie, then lifted her eyebrows in inquiry, turning to Azrael. When the girl murmured a negative, Chloe took a bite of the brownie and mumbled, "This is amazing," then said, "Is this a good time to ask you about the knife?"

Azrael smiled faintly, with a murmur of thanks, then exhaled a small sigh. "Do you have any alcohol?" Catching sight of the detective's lifted eyebrows, she made a face. "Older than humanity," she said, with emphasis. "You know I'm not a kid; you're not actually contributing to the delinquency of a minor." When Chloe looked unlikely to oblige, she added, "Just one drink. Trixie's asleep and won't see, and I might need it to get through this." She hesitated a moment, then added softly, "Look, I get that it's unhealthy behavior, using alcohol as a crutch. I don't do it often. Please."

Chloe folded her arms over her chest, the impact of the posture somewhat negated by the brownie she still held, and gave Azrael a long look. The angel's expression was serious and a little pained. "Fine," Chloe said, getting to her feet. She returned with two glasses of amber liquid, passing one over to the angel. "This feels so wrong," she muttered.

Azrael smiled. "Thanks," she said, taking a mouthful of the drink with no apparent enjoyment, but rather as one would take a dose of medicine. "So. The knife is known as Azrael's Blade, though I tend not to call it that, obviously. My father gave it to me when he made me the Angel of Death. I was... rather young, as these things go, for such responsibilities."

Seeing Azrael hesitate over her words, Chloe asked quietly, "What's so special about it, Rae?"

Azrael took a deep breath, considered the level of her drink, and asked, "Did Luci tell you about our brother Uriel?"

Chloe nodded, looking troubled. "He could sense patterns, and he was going to kill your mom and me, and Lucifer -"

"Yeah," Azrael interrupted, her voice tight. "Good. We're on the same page. Lucifer used my blade to kill Uriel. When it takes a life, that being is destroyed. No soul to go to Heaven or Hell."

"So your brother is dead... permanently?" Chloe asked, her hand tightening around her own glass. "And all those people at the yoga studio?"

Azrael nodded rather grimly. "Yes." She took a deep breath and rationed a small sip of her drink. "What you don't understand is that my blade, it... wants to be used. I've had time to develop a certain resistance to it, over the years. Luci didn't stand a chance, especially not in that situation. And when the humans got hold of it, well, we're lucky the death count wasn't far higher. If Lucifer hadn't taken my blade, it would have been."

Frowning, Chloe asked, "What do you mean, it wants to be used? Isn't that dangerous?"

"It gets in your head," Azrael explained quietly. "It whispers. It's hard to explain," she admitted. "You'll forgive me if I don't offer to let you try it out, even if I knew where it was. And, yes, it's dangerous."

Chloe stared at her. "Wait, this horribly powerful weapon, and you don't know where it is? Who does?"

"Lucifer," Azrael replied lightly. "Chloe, I can't touch it in this form. I did once, and it... it remembered me. It didn't want me to put it down." She frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe, with Uri, it... it knew that he shouldn't have it, and that's why it turned on him."

"This is really creepy, Rae," Chloe said bluntly. "Like, horror-movie-level creepiness."

"Tell me about it," Azrael muttered.

Chloe frowned. "How did it even get down here without you?"

Azrael rubbed her forehead with the heel of one hand, the other clutching her drink. "I made a mistake. Uri knew I didn't take my blade to Hell. I didn't want to risk it ending up in a demon's hands." Seeing Chloe bristle a little, she said flatly, "Remember how much Maze has changed in her time here. And there are demons in Hell with far less... restraint. It would be a disaster." She sucked in a gulp of air and then slowly exhaled before saying, "Uri knew my schedule, knew when it would be unattended, and he took it. He was worried about what Mom might do, and decided to take things into his own hands. It... didn't work out well for him."

"No," Chloe agreed quietly. "Was this the first time it's been used?"

Azrael nodded. "I am," she said slowly, "Very glad that I wasn't in possession of it when Lucifer rebelled against our father."

"You think he might have asked you to kill Lucifer?" Chloe queried, outraged.

Azrael was quiet for a long moment. "I'd like to think not," she said softly, her voice husky. "I'd like to think he wouldn't have been so cruel. I was quite young, for an angel, and Lucifer and I were close." She shook her head, a short, sharp gesture, then drained the last of her drink with a grimace. Turning a steady gaze on the detective, she queried, "Any more questions?"

Chloe studied the girl: she looked tired and drawn and unhappy. The questions about what had happened at the science museum, she decided, could wait. "No, I'm good. Thanks."

Azrael nodded. "I'm going to sleep down here, if it's all right with you. I'm accustomed to couches by now, and I think I'd rather not share with Trixie tonight." With the smallest of smiles, she added, "She steals the covers, and she's had enough time to take full possession of them by now."

"There's Maze's room," Chloe offered. "I doubt she'll be back tonight."

That sparked a slightly larger smile. "Thank you, but no. I'd rather not find out what would happen if she did come back, and found me asleep in her bed."

Chloe nodded, with a wry smile of acknowledgment. "I'll get some pillows and stuff."

When she returned, Azrael was still in the same spot, though she was looking a little forlorn, one hand gripping a small stuffed monkey that Trixie must have left. "Come on," Chloe offered, after a moment of consideration. "My bed is bigger than Trixie's, and I don't steal the covers." Azrael brightened a little, but still hesitated, obviously wanting to ask something. "What?" Chloe asked.

"Do you really snore like an Albanian field wench?" The question was utterly deadpan, but Azrael's eyes glinted with mirth.

The _thunk_ of the pillow hitting the face of the former Angel of Death, Chloe reflected, was profoundly satisfying.

* * *

Chloe stirred in the middle of the night, feeling the bed move as Azrael shifted. "Y'okay?" she mumbled, mom-instincts kicking in despite the knowledge that Azrael wasn't actually a child.

"Can I tell Lucifer?" Azrael's voice was quiet, but she sounded fully awake, despite the hour.

Chloe yawned and tried to find a little more alertness. "Tell him what?"

"That I ended up in your bed before he did?"

Chloe counted to ten. Twice. "Good night, Azrael."

A very soft laugh sounded from the girl. "Good night, Chloe."

* * *

 **Author's note: Today's Google rabbit hole: Six obols make a drachma. Obols were used primarily in ancient Greece and Rome to pay Charon, who was the ferryman who carried souls to the afterlife. Never say fanfic isn't educational.**


	50. Chapter 50

Mazikeen stalked into her apartment some hours before dawn, annoyed. Normally she didn't misjudge potential bedmates, but she had this evening. She'd gotten a little creative - really, nothing too far out of the ordinary, at least not for her - and the human had freaked out, and Maze just hadn't felt like dealing with it, so she'd left.

It was, she decided, Lucifer's stupid brother's fault. Just being in his dorky, obnoxious presence had clearly thrown her off her game. Still, the evening hadn't been an entire loss. She'd gotten to watch Ella turn her back on the angel and walk away to come back to _her_ , a demon.

Maze would remember the dumbstruck look on that idiot angel's face for a very long time.

Pausing by the couch, she noted the absence of Chloe's weird pink vase from a nearby table and made a mental note to ask Trixie where it had gone. If the little human had broken it, Maze could probably figure something out before her mom noticed.

Detouring over to the breakfast bar, she opened the Tupperware and helped herself to a brownie, letting the lid rest lightly against the container.

The demon made her way upstairs, leaving a trail of brownie crumbs in her wake. She looked in on Trixie, who mumbled something in her sleep about fruit punch, then paused as she passed Chloe's room.

Was that two sets of breathing she heard?

Had Chloe picked up someone at the bar after she had left? Had the detective finally gotten laid? Unable to believe her ears, Maze readied a knife, just in case, and nudged the door open with her shoulder, her other hand being still occupied by the nearly-finished brownie.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," she muttered, upon seeing just who was in bed with Chloe. After all, if there was anyone less likely to get laid than Chloe Decker, it was an angel. _Well_ , she amended smugly, thinking of Amenadiel, _Most angels_.

Well, and Lucifer, though she didn't think of him as an angel, not really.

Maze popped the last bit of brownie into her mouth and surveyed the scene. Azrael lay curled on her side, wearing an oversized shirt. With a quick glance about the room, Maze found the angel's clothing folded neatly in a pile - of course - and a knife tucked into a boot. Really, she thought, Azrael should know better than to leave her weapon out of reach. She appropriated the little knife, tucking it into her waistband; she'd return it at some suitable interval. Maybe.

Azrael had kicked off her covers sometime in the night and, perhaps seeking warmth, lay just inches from Chloe, her arm flung over the woman's waist. Still, even in slumber she held herself back just a bit. She looked even younger than her body, her face relaxed and softened by sleep.

Chloe, sprawled on her back, snored lightly, apparently oblivious to or unconcerned by Azrael's nearness.

Maze tucked away her own knife, as it was obviously not needed, and pulled out the weapon most suited for the moment: her phone. She snapped several pictures and then, utterly gleeful, texted them to Lucifer.

Her phone vibrated in her hand after just a moment, and she slipped into the hallway to answer it.

"You staged that," Lucifer accused.

Maze cackled, imagining the look on Lucifer's face. "Nope," she replied brightly, popping that final consonant in mocking imitation of the Devil. "They were like that when I got here."

Sounding honestly offended, Lucifer said, "Well, really, how much did the Detective drink tonight?"

"Not that much," Maze answered, with a low chuckle. "She was pretty much sober when I left. Though," she recalled, "There were two glasses on the table downstairs."

"That's it," Lucifer decided. "My sister got the Detective drunk." Hearing Maze's amused snort, he asked, "You don't think so?"

Maze shook her head, not that the Devil could see her. "What do you think happened in there?" Hearing Lucifer flounder for words, she agreed, "Exactly. Fun Size is too much of a goody-two-shoes to even _think_ about sex, let alone try anything, and even Chloe isn't desperate enough to hit on your sister."

"Rae's getting better, though," Lucifer offered, coming to his sister's defense. "She noticed Alex's butt."

"A corpse would notice Alex's butt," Maze retorted, though not without a reflective smile. She would, she decided, have to make a coffee run after she got some sleep.

Lucifer quipped, "Brings new meaning to the term _rigor mortis_ , am I right?" He made a soft, amused sound, clearly pleased with his own cleverness, then apparently remembered that he was offended. "But, really," he added, a note of complaint in his voice, "Find out what happened, Maze."

Maze looked back into the room. "Oh, I will," she replied, before ending the call.

She smiled. It was a pleasant expression only in the sense that the demon was pleased.

* * *

Azrael found herself jolted into alertness by the speed of her passage down the hallway, or possibly by the thump of her landing onto the couch, though at least it was on a soft surface. "What?" she managed.

"Time to get up," came a too-cheerful voice, and Azrael groaned.

"Mazikeen really?" Azrael's yawn was wide enough that her jaw ached for a moment. "What couldn't wait till morning?" Frowning, she asked, "Is Lucifer okay? Did something happen?"

"He's fine." The demon plunked next to Azrael on the couch, just close enough for discomfort. "What were you doing in Decker's bed?"

Azrael groaned. "Seriously? You got me out of bed for that? I was sleeping," she replied with feeling. "Finally. What else would I be doing?"

Maze slung an arm around the girl's shoulders. "Well," she said expansively, "If you haven't figured that out by now, do I have a story for you."

Azrael twitched under the demon's arm, but didn't try to escape; she knew that attempt would not prove successful. "You're the second person today - is it still today? - to try to explain sex to me, and the other one was Trixie."

Maze smiled proudly at the news about Trixie. "Good for her," she murmured.

"And Ella tried, too, that one time," Azrael continued blearily. "Is there something about my face that makes people want to talk to me about genitalia?" She realized what she'd said and shook her head, all but forcing herself to a semblance of alertness. "Please don't answer that."

Maze smirked. "You know my version of the sex talk would be the best, though."

Azrael cast a quick, sidelong look at the demon. "Yes," she agreed, looking amused. "The question is whether or not I would perish from embarrassment."

"Oh, I'd let you live," Maze replied, finally released the girl. Azrael sank back against the couch, and Maze asked, "So how did you end up in Chloe's bed?"

Azrael didn't answer, instead getting to her feet and moving to pick up the glasses from earlier.

"Come on, Fun Size," Maze teased. "You know you want to tell me."

"No," Azrael replied as she headed for the sink. "I really don't."

Maze trailed behind Azrael, boosting herself to sit on the breakfast bar, booted feet swinging aimlessly. "Lucifer thinks that Decker agreed to it because you got her drunk."

Azrael turned on the water with a sharp, annoyed jerk of her wrist. "Of course I didn't get -" The demon's words registered, and she reached deliberately to turn off the water before twisting to face the demon. "You told Lucifer?" she accused,

Azrael and Lucifer, Maze decided, got the exact same tone of voice when she annoyed them. Clearly this called for further experimentation.

"No, I didn't," Maze replied. Seeing Azrael's look of utter disbelief, she displayed her phone and added, unrepentant, "I sent pictures."

"What did you send him?" Azrael lunged for the phone, a tactical error on her part; Maze, atop the counter, had the higher ground and easily held the phone out of the girl's reach in a taunting game of keep-away. Maze's derisive laugh at the angel's frustrated expression only poured salt into the girl's wounds.

"I can just fly up there and get it," Azrael asserted.

"Go ahead." With a gesture, Maze drew Azrael's attention to their tight quarters. "Your wings will trash the kitchen and the noise will wake up Chloe and Trixie."

Azrael sighed, seeing the truth of Maze's words. Worse, Chloe and Trixie would wake frightened, not something she wished for either of them. She turned - not putting her back to the demon, never that - but not before Maze saw her rather abashed expression.

"You did that, didn't you?" she asked, delighted. "Broke something with your wings. But what happened?" Azrael remained stubbornly silent, and Maze continued reflectively, "Did they just pop out? It used to happen to Lucifer back in Hell, when we first started having sex -"

"I so did not need to know that," Azrael muttered.

"- but it stopped once he got used to all this," Maze continued as if Azrael hadn't spoken, gesturing to herself to indicate just what had given Lucifer cause to lose control over his wings. She tucked her phone rather ostentatiously into her cleavage, giving Azrael a challenging look, then hopped down from the breakfast bar to circle the angel. "So it must be something new. What?"

Azrael turned in place, keeping an eye on the demon. "I'm not telling you," she replied, steadfastly ignoring the phone and its new location. "You'd just use it against me."

"True," Maze agreed. She smiled. She knew Trixie would tell her, so she let the question go unanswered.

Azrael, not feeling at all reassured by Maze's smile - as well she shouldn't - looked rather suspicious as the demon backed off and leaned against the breakfast bar. Azrael risked a glance at the phone - or, rather, at the phone's location.

"Go ahead," Maze said, seeing the direction of the girl's gaze. "You can see exactly what I sent to Lucifer. You just have to get the phone."

Azrael turned aside, irritated. "Why would you send him pictures like that?" she demanded.

"Demon," Maze replied with pride. She had guessed, of course, that Azrael wouldn't try for the phone. Pity.

"Demon," Azrael echoed softly, in obvious agreement. She went back to the sink and turned the water on once more.

"Aw, come on," Maze said engagingly. "You're not mad."

Azrael took a moment to wash the glasses, taking care to dry them before putting them away. "No," she agreed, her voice small and distant, her diction precise. "I'm not mad."

"Ooh, you're lying," Maze needled gleefully.

"I'm not lying," Azrael retorted as she started to rummage in the cabinets. "I'm tired and cranky because some demon hauled me out of a sound sleep and badgered me about the reason I was in bed, which was _sleep_. Obviously!" Realizing that her volume had increased, and was approaching an inappropriate level for the sleepers in the apartment, Azrael closed her mouth tightly and pulled a bag of flour and a mixing bowl from various cupboards.

"So go back to bed," Maze suggested, her tone implying the 'duh'.

Azrael counted under her breath as she measured the flour into the bowl, adding other ingredients as she spoke. "I'm tired, but now I'm not sleepy."

"I could wear you out," the demon offered, with a sly smile. Seeing Azrael's startled expression, she laughed, teasing, "Training, that's what I meant. What did you think I was talking about? Your mind's in the gutter. Some angel you are."

That got a flicker of a smile from Azrael. "Oh, yes. Your helpful suggestion was entirely innocent."

Maze leaned back against the breakfast bar, idly watching. "So, all those years flying around here, and you never had sex? Really?"

Azrael did not pause in her assembly. "Really," she agreed.

"Well, why not?" Maze considered the girl. "I mean, not in this body, obviously, but your usual one is pretty hot, and I know you used to hang out with the humans."

Starting to mix the dough with her hands, Azrael shook her head. "Rules, Mazikeen," she replied, with the barest hint of a sigh.

"Rules," the demon echoed, a hint of disbelief in her tone. "You break the rules all the time. You've been drinking in Hell for hundreds of years, and I know Daddy doesn't like that."

"Don't call him _Daddy_ ," Azrael protested, making a face. "That's just... ew. And, yeah, I break little rules. I mean, the whole showing my wings thing wasn't my fault. Mostly not. Except for Ella, and by that time..." Azrael shook her head, adding, "And drinking doesn't hurt anybody but me."

Maze's lips curved. "Sex doesn't hurt, either, not with the right partner. Well, unless you want it to."

Azrael wrinkled her nose as she cleaned the counter and then turned out the dough onto it. "Ew," she protested, though it was obviously a response to the demon's words. She considered the height of the counter and her own height, then sighed and disappeared down the hall.

"It's the opposite of _ew_ , TD," Maze called after her, sounding a little smug. "Trust me on this one."

Azrael returned carrying Trixie's stool from the bathroom. Her expression daring Maze to comment, she put down the stool and stood on it. With the leverage of her increased height, she started to knead the dough.

Maze smirked, but didn't say anything, instead watching Azrael work for a few minutes. "Seriously," she said finally, "All those years you spent hanging out with the humans, and you never wanted to do the deed with any of them?"

"Never said that," Azrael replied, her eyes glinting as she glanced at Maze.

"What?" For once, Azrael had managed to surprise Maze, and it showed. The demon was at Azrael's side in one stride. "Seriously? Who? What happened? Come on, spill."

"It was a long time ago," Azrael replied, expertly working the dough. Feeling the demon's gaze on her, guessing that Maze wasn't going to let this go without getting some dirt, she looked over with a smile, clearly a little embarrassed. "We're really doing this?"

Maze looked amused. "Story time? Yeah. I could go first, if you want. The last time Lucifer and I had sex, he did the most amazing thing with his -"

"Wait!" Azrael looked as if only the dough clinging to her hands was preventing her from sticking her fingers in her ears. "I'll go." Doing her best to ignore both the rising color in her cheeks and the demon's smirk, she got a second bowl and greased it, turning the dough into the bowl. "It was a long time ago..."

"You said that." Maze folded her arms across her chest, clearly enjoying watching Azrael squirm. When it looked as if the angel wasn't going to continue, she said, "And the _stamina_ on your brother. I mean, he's obviously got all the moves, not to mention creativity, but -"

This time, Azrael couldn't form words, instead making an inarticulate sound of protest. "Fine," she managed. "It was -"

"So help me, if you say 'a long time ago,' I am going to hurt you." While the threat wasn't an idle one, Maze's tone was amused enough not to elicit outright alarm in Azrael.

"- in Sumer," Azrael finished.

Maze groaned. "That long ago? Talk about a dry spell."

"I did say a long time ago," Azrael quipped. She washed her hands and threw a cloth over the bowl. "He was an artisan."

"Knew how to use his hands," Maze approved, with a lascivious smile. "Nice."

Expression gone a little exasperated, Azrael asked, "Are you going to keep interrupting me?" Maze settled back against the breakfast bar and folded her arms across her chest, waiting. "There'd just been a plague, and so I'd been busy, but I knew things would slow down, so I went to see him."

Curious, Maze asked, "Was that the plague with the pustules or the one with the - okay, okay, I'll stop."

"Thank you." Azrael started a pot of coffee, silent as she went through the motions of the task, and for once Maze didn't push. "I'd had my eye on him for a while, something about his shoulders, and I just..." Her voice trailed off, her eyes gone distant.

When Azrael didn't speak, Maze snapped her fingers, drawing the angel's attention to back to the present. "So, what, you hopped into the sack with him?"

"No. You know I haven't..."

Maze let out a low chuckle. "Maybe you need the sex talk after all. There's plenty you can do in bed that's not sex... well, depending on how you define it. Hell, you don't even need a bed - you know that much, right?"

" _Yes_." Her cheeks flaming, Azrael flicked a glance toward the door, as if considering fleeing the conversation, then visibly remembered that she was only wearing that oversized shirt.

"C'mon, tell me you at least kissed the guy." When Azrael nodded, Maze crowed, "All right! Now we're talking. What happened next?"

Azrael exhaled a soft sigh. "Thunder. Lightning." Maze looked skeptical, and Azrael said, "Seriously. I didn't know if it was my father sending me a warning or my brother Raziel messing with my head, or... just a storm. But it scared me, and I backed off, left town, got back to work."

"Ran off when things got tough," Maze translated. Seeing Azrael's irritated look, she shrugged. "It's a family trait.

Azrael protested, "I kept worrying that it was Dad. I didn't want him to get all... vengeful. He was annoyed, because of Mom and the plague, and sometimes he just... I mean, remember Job?"

"Lucifer got the rap for that one, too," Maze commented. "You know he wasn't involved, right?"

Azrael nodded. "Yeah. He was just the scape..." She realized what she was saying, shrugged, and finished, her lips curving upward, "... goat."

Maze echoed the smile. "Ha. But, really, that's it? One kiss, in all this time?"

Azrael poured herself a cup of coffee and took a sip before nodding. "Unless you count a peck on the cheek from a twelve year-old boy in a church hall, yeah." She gestured toward the coffee, adding, "Want some?"

"Doesn't count," Maze judged. She pondered the coffee, then shook her head. "I'm going to go to bed. I'll hit Beelzebean later."

Azrael made a face. "Oh, you're going to bed? How lovely for you. Hope nobody, say, wakes you out of a sound sleep or anything."

Maze smirked "Just try it. Then I can tell your brother that you ended up in Chloe's bed _and_ mine." She laughed at Azrael's exasperated grumble and turned to leave. "Later, Fun Size."

Azrael looked after Maze, then moved to sit on the couch, picking up Trixie's stuffed monkey. "And I'm back on the couch," she murmured, with a wry smile. She let her eyes close and waited for her dough to rise, letting her mind drift back to Sumer, the sun glinting on the river, and a certain set of shoulders.


	51. Chapter 51

After two hours of texting his sister resulted in no response, Lucifer made his way to the Detective's apartment, the last place he knew Azrael had been. That netted him one request from the offspring that he _please_ convince Azrael to dye her wings pink (hardly, he told her, though he would consider red, a compromise that Beatrice accepted), one cinnamon roll (pleasantly warm after the Detective reheated it for him), several pointed comments (his) about the Detective's choice of sleeping companions, and several eye rolls (hers) re: said comments, but no sister. Azrael, Chloe reported, had left some time earlier, and hadn't said where she was going.

Maze was no help, as she was still asleep, and why should Lucifer bother waking her when he was perfectly capable, all on his own, of rounding up one wayward sibling?

So Lucifer considered the gray feather. He knew what would happen if his demon knew how often he took it out, how often he used it to reassure himself that his sister was near. Maze would raise that slashed eyebrow, smirk at him, and tell him that he was being ridiculous.

Maybe he was. Maybe he should put it away, leave it, get rid of it. He knew he wouldn't, though, not since he'd heard that Michael had almost taken Azrael back to the Silver City. She would have disappeared and Lucifer wouldn't have known. So he checked her feather. Each time it allowed him to sense her presence, he relaxed a little, safe in the knowledge that Azrael was still there.

She usually went to the same places; most were familiar to him, but there was one new place, her present location. She went to this place most days, for hours at a time, and Lucifer had to admit that he was curious. Well, that and the whole text-ignoring thing, behavior that was clearly unacceptable, especially when Lucifer had certain questions he wished to ask her.

Lucifer tucked the feather against his wrist, then started the car and drove, one hand drumming a syncopated rhythm on the steering wheel. He allowed himself to be pulled closer and closer until he found himself in a parking space outside the door to a music school.

Azrael, he knew, likely would have considered the available parking space to be a sign from their father. Lucifer knew better, though he smiled at his luck as he got out of the car and contemplated the building before him.

A music school? Surely Azrael wasn't taking lessons. He tucked the feather farther into his sleeve and pushed open the door. The interior was small and a little run-down - cozy, some might call it - but the music coming from the last door but one drew him as well as the feather could.

He made his way down the hall and eased open the door, pausing in the doorway to watch her play. Believing she was unobserved, Azrael threw herself into the music, her fingers all but dancing on the keys, her body relaxed in a way he didn't often see.

Azrael reached the end of the piece and exhaled a soft sigh, letting her hands rest on the keys for a moment longer. From where he stood, he could just see the edge of her smile.

"So this is where you're hiding."

Azrael turned sharply, her expression a little wary. "How did you find me? Nobody knows I come here."

"Your feather," Lucifer admitted. He saw that subtle tension in her frame and regretted that he was the one to put it there. He was reminded, with startling clarity, of a particular day in the Silver City, another day she'd been hiding. She'd had that same tension in her body that day, even as a small child, though he'd been able to dispel it. That time, at least, it hadn't been his fault, and he'd been able to help distract her.

* * *

Lucifer didn't bother calling for Azrael. She'd come this way, Amenadiel had said, fleeing another of their parents' fights. The Heavens still rang with the echoes of the argument.

Azrael was upset, Amenadiel had said; Lucifer, glad of the excuse to leave before his parents made their presence known, went off in search of his smallest sister.

Scanning the sky, Lucifer took to the air. She wouldn't be on the ground, of course; she rarely was, these days, and had a number of aerial bolt-holes. He knew some of them - had even shown her some, with his superior knowledge of Places to Hide in the Silver City - but he was sure she had discovered more. The Silver City was ever-changing, after all.

He flew as silently as possible, and before long he heard her, high in the branches of a giant tree far from the center of the Silver City.

So. Not a new hidey-hole, but one where they'd gone together in the past. That was promising; maybe she hoped that he would find her.

"Come on out," Lucifer called. "It's just me."

Azrael emerged in a flurry of wings and leaves and suppressed tears, and Lucifer, fighting a smile, pulled a few twigs from her dark curls.

"Was he yelling at you?" Azrael asked, hovering woefully before him.

"No," Lucifer reassured. "Not yet, at least," he added, with a roguish grin. "Give him time. He usually finds something."

Azrael didn't smile. "Stay away from him," she urged, allowing Lucifer to lead her in a lazy spiral to the ground. "He's already mad."

"Fine," Lucifer said gently, smiling as his sister relaxed, just a little. "I'll keep my distance from him, word of honor. What would you like to do instead?"

"Fly?" Azrael suggested hopefully, and Lucifer felt a small pang of remorse. He'd been consumed with his own thoughts lately, and had had little time for his small sister. He would do better.

"Fly," Lucifer echoed, as if in consideration. He added, as if he didn't know this was exactly what she intended, "What, like a race?"

Azrael nodded, her expression lightening. "Can we go swoop down on Amenadiel?"

Lucifer tutted, hiding a smile. "You know he doesn't like it when you do that." Azrael nodded, her wings drooping a little, and Lucifer added, his tone contemplative, "So we should do it at _least_ twice, don't you think?"

"Now?" Azrael asked, her voice eager, her body already coiling in preparation. When her brother nodded indulgently, she called, "Three-two-one-GO!" and was off like a shot before he had collected himself, arrowing through the sky.

"Cheater," Lucifer called after her, laughing, though he caught up to her with little effort. He had the wingspan and the size advantage for that, though he suspected that wouldn't last long.

While the wind of their flight made conversation impossible, Azrael soon deftly maneuvered closer to him and, just for a moment, a small hand squeezed his as their wings moved in parallel.

Then, of course, Azrael broke away, eager for the aerial acrobatics she loved.

Theirs was a madcap flight that looped throughout the Silver City, drawing attention from all they passed. Azrael did her best to outfly him, using every trick in her arsenal, and he found that he wasn't entirely letting her win.

At one point, Uriel attempted to join in the fun, but he was soon left behind, eclipsed by both his older brother and his small sister.

Finally, they came upon Amenadiel and spent some time observing their oldest brother from high above.

"Still want to do this?" Lucifer queried, and Azrael nodded brightly. "Well, far be it for me to be the voice of reason." Grinning, he gestured below. "After you, little sister."

Azrael, fearless, threw herself at the ground, passing so close to Amenadiel that her trailing feathers all but brushed the top of his head before she angled away and then upward. Lucifer, following at a small distance, did not manage to get so near. Next time, he decided.

It took three times dive-bombing Amenadiel before their brother growled at them to leave him alone.

So they did it again.

* * *

"I didn't sleep with Chloe."

Lucifer, startled out of his reverie, was almost surprised by his sister's appearance, so strong had been the memory of her past self. While she was only slightly larger than the Azrael-that-was in his memory, her coloring now was a sharp contrast.

Azrael had, perhaps, misinterpreted the wistfulness in his expression, for she was watching him with wary amusement. "Really, what do you think happened, brother?"

"You did sleep with her," Lucifer thought to say. "I've got evidence," he added, pulling his phone from his jacket pocket.

Azrael made a face. "Mazikeen told me she sent you pictures. Okay, so I slept with Chloe, but I didn't... _sleep_ with her."

"Of course you didn't," Lucifer agreed. "You look like a child. The Detective would never have sex with a child... or someone who looks like one. And, really, haven't you figured out by now that dear old Dad won't get annoyed at you just for _saying_ 'sex'?"

Azrael looked a little sheepish. "I wasn't intentionally not saying it," she said. "I just... didn't, that's all."

"You still didn't say it," Lucifer pointed out, amused by the omission.

"You know, you're right. I didn't," Azrael agreed, with a quick grin. "How bad are the pictures? Mazikeen wouldn't let me see."

"Look for yourself," Lucifer replied carelessly. "She posted them on her Wobble."

Azrael made an intriguing choking sound and grabbed for her bag.

"Oh, you do have your phone," Lucifer added, nettled. "I've been trying to reach you."

Azrael sounded distracted as she replied, "I was playing piano, and my phone was on silent. Sorry. Oh," she exhaled a sound somewhere between a sigh and a groan. "Does Chloe know these are... wait, what?"

Lucifer leaned in to see what was causing his sister's distress. "Oh, yes, the one of you cuddled up to that stuffed monkey. I put that one on my lock screen," he added, grinning wickedly as he held up his phone. "So I can see it over and over again."

Azrael groaned, but did not otherwise object. "She must have gotten up again after I fell asleep on the couch," she said, still staring at her phone. "Seriously," she added, scrolling back to the pictures of herself and Chloe, "Chloe is going to flip when she finds out about this."

"Well, we'll let her find out from Maze," Lucifer suggested, earning himself a rather judgmental look from his sister. "What? I _am_ evil, after all."

"No, you're not," Azrael replied. "Ask Mazikeen to take them down, please?" she added hopefully, and there was enough of that small Azrael in her that Lucifer, with a sigh, nodded and fired off a text. He didn't exactly expect an affirmative response from his demon, but he could at least make the attempt.

Lucifer said, after a moment, joking, "I did think I'd be first, though."

Azrael shook her head as she regarded her brother. "It's not that you thought you'd beat me to it - and, seriously, Luci, it's not a contest, it's _Chloe_. You just didn't even consider that I'd end up... sharing a bed with her."

Lucifer inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Maze said you wouldn't tell her how it happened."

"No," Azrael agreed. When Lucifer let the silence extend, the girl sighed. "I'm pretty sure it was just that Chloe felt sorry for me. That's all."

"Oh!" Lucifer brightened, then, seeing Azrael's raised eyebrows, modulated his tone to one of sympathy, pulling on a sober expression. "Ah, oh. Oh, no. Sorry for you, that's just too bad, really. Why was she sorry for you?"

Azrael made a wry face. "Nice save, brother. I told her about my blade, and Uri, and... well. I was feeling lonely, and I think she saw it." The girl smiled faintly. "I don't think any of the humans _really_ gets, deep down, that I'm not a kid. It's this body. So she saw an unhappy kid and wanted to help. That's all it was, so you don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," Lucifer replied. At Azrael's soft, amused noise, he attempted a diversion, his sympathy genuine this time, "Are you all right now, though?"

Azrael nodded. "Coffee helped, and cinnamon rolls, and music."

"Speaking of, what are you even doing in this place? I mean, a music school, really?"

Azrael eyed him. "Are you checking on me?"

"Yes," Lucifer admitted. "And, really, if you wanted a piano, you could always have borrowed one of mine."

Azrael slid over, making room for her brother, and he sat next to her on the bench. "I know," she replied, looking over with a smile. "I sort of stumbled on this place a while back. It just felt right to keep coming." She shifted her hands on the keys and played a soft chord. "Why are you checking on me?" When he didn't answer, she played another chord, a little higher, prompting, "Luci?"

"I..." Lucifer frowned as his sister played another chord, this one in a minor key. "Stop that. I don't need a bloody soundtrack. You weren't answering my texts is all. And... never mind." He didn't feel inclined to tell her how often he checked on her, or why. Not just now.

The skepticism on his sister's face suggested a later reckoning, but she let the subject go for now. "It's not as fancy as your pianos, but the sound is nice," she observed, playing several chords in succession.

"It is," Lucifer agreed.

Azrael lifted her hands and gestured to the piano. "Give it a try," she suggested. "See how the other half lives - well, the part of the other half that can afford piano lessons but not multiple really expensive pianos."

"You're not actually taking lessons, are you?" Lucifer thought to ask, and Azrael shook her head, with a murmured negative. He played a few chords of his own, to get a feel for the instrument, then shifted seamlessly to a rollicking piece that made his sister smile, just as he'd intended.

Twisting in place on the piano bench, Azrael rummaged through the music and slid a piece onto the music rack. Lucifer stopped playing, leaning forward to investigate. "Arrival of the Queen of Sheba, eh? Two hands, one piano. Interesting."

Azrael nodded, her eyes gleaming with challenge. "Think you're up to it?"

"You know classical isn't my jam," he began.

Azrael nodded, her lips curving. "So you can't handle it," she teased.

"You've been spending far too much time with Maze," Lucifer protested. "Here, let me have a look."

"We could take the tempo a little slower, if that would help," Azrael offered, all innocence, as Lucifer flipped through the score.

"Cheeky," Lucifer retorted, with a grin. He got to his feet and pulled off his jacket, then sat once more. "Right. Let's do this. Full tempo."

They managed remarkably well, particularly as Lucifer, at least, was sight-reading. Later he wondered if Azrael hadn't been practicing the piece, though the thought didn't occur to him at the time.

Really, it went as smoothly as if they both had been practicing, even the cross-hands parts. When they had finished, Azrael laughed for the sheer joy of it. "Oh, that was fun," she exulted, leaning lightly against her brother. "We should do that more often."

"Maybe with something challenging next time," Lucifer agreed, with a quick grin. He hesitated, still not wanting to bring it up, but this was likely the best time. "The Detective said something happened at a museum," he began, and Azrael pulled away from him, the movement subtle but still noticeable.

"I know I should have left the human alone," she replied, her gaze dropping to the keys before her. "But some of them take what Josh taught them and twist it, and I just... I got angry."

Lucifer nodded, watching his sister. "She said something happened to your eyes. She thought they turned black. And whatever you said to them scared off some pretty determined protestors."

"Black?" Azrael echoed blankly. "That hasn't happened since..."

"Since you got hold of your blade," Lucifer finished. "Maybe holding it started something." Azrael murmured a protest, but Lucifer continued, "Maybe if you touched it again -"

"No." It was a flat refusal. Azrael got up from the piano bench and retreated to the bookshelf, though the tiny room did not allow for much space between them.

"I don't have it with me," Lucifer reassured. He cajoled, "I know you're worried about how you couldn't let it go last time, but -"

"No," Azrael repeated, a little more loudly.

"We could bring Maze in on it, give her a tranquilizer gun or something. Blades are her thing, but I daresay she'd make an exception." Lucifer grinned amidst his planning. "Come to think of it, she'd probably enjoy shooting you."

"You're not listening to me!" The sound of Azrael's shout was very loud in the small room.

For a moment, everything froze. Lucifer turned his gaze on his sister and saw the fear in her eyes - brown, yes, they were still brown - and drew in a breath to speak.

The door burst open, and Lucifer looked over to see a tiny woman with pin-straight black hair. She was holding a cane, and while she looked old enough to need it for purposes of locomotion, her firm grip on it and the dark look in her eyes suggested that she was more than willing to use it on him, should the situation warrant it. "Everything all right in here?" Though her words were obviously directed to Azrael, she didn't turn her gaze from Lucifer.

"Everything's fine, Margaret," Azrael replied, though her voice held a quiver.

Lucifer got up from the piano bench, one hand extended toward his sister. "Rae -" he began.

The old woman - Margaret - stepped fully into the room and leveled the tip of the cane at Lucifer's chest. "Step into the hallway, please." While her tone was coolly polite, it also held an implied *or else*.

Lucifer turned to sister and she nodded, her expression tight.

"Right," Lucifer agreed. He pulled on his jacket, then stepped past Margaret and into the hallway; the door closed firmly in his face. "Well," he started to protest, but, hearing the muffled sounds of conversation on the other side of the door, instead leaned against the wall, one hand tucked carelessly into a pocket. He pulled out a cigarette and fidgeted with his lighter, but then put them both away.

After a few minutes, the door opened and the old woman ushered Azrael into the hall. "Your sister is very talented," she informed him.

"Yes," Lucifer agreed.

"And so are you." Margaret's face creased with an answering smile. "You play well together."

"Thank you."

"You're going to take your sister to get some lunch," Margaret instructed Lucifer. "And you're going to talk out whatever got her upset, and then you're going to indulge in a ridiculous dessert.

"This wasn't my idea," Azrael interjected, though not without a small smile. "Not that I'd mind, but this is all her."

"I could do with a nosh," Lucifer replied agreeably.

Margaret turned to Azrael and smiled fondly. "Come back later, if you like. I've found a piece I think you'll enjoy. Maybe," she added, her gaze flicking to Lucifer, "I'll start looking for duets."

Azrael smiled and nodded but didn't answer, turning to go down the hallway to the exit.

Lucifer, following, caught a flicker of his earlier memory and almost reached for his sister's hand.

* * *

In the end, they decided on an out-of-the-way diner, more for the ambience (there was none, which suited them) than for the food, which was, at least, plentiful. The diner did have a particularly impressive dessert case, which also factored into the decision.

Lucifer watched with guarded amusement as Azrael tucked into something involving turkey and gravy and squishy white bread.

"What?" she asked, seeing his gaze. "I'm planning on a food coma later, and this many carbs seem like a good start."

Lucifer started in on his own meal, which had significantly fewer carbs. "Yes, but - really, are there mashed potatoes, too? Do you not believe in vegetables?"

"No, I don't. Vegetables are a figment of our imaginations, clearly invented to torment the young and those who appear to be young." Azrael smiled, then added mildly, "Don't judge. I'm tired. Mazikeen yanked me out of bed early this morning to interrogate me. And I think she stole my knife. It wasn't where I left it last night."

"She may very well have, if she came across it unattended," Lucifer agreed. He considered Azrael's demeanor and said lightly, "Speaking of knives, little sister..."

Azrael sighed and put down her fork. "Okay. So my blade made my eyes go all scary and your solution is for me to hold it again. How is this a good idea?"

"No, don't stop eating," Lucifer protested. He waited until Azrael picked up her fork once more. "I think it did more than change your eyes. You were able to influence that protester."

"I was angry," Azrael admitted. "And if he saw my eyes, maybe he just got scared and decided it wasn't worth it."

"Scared of a little girl, however creepy her eyes?" Lucifer shook his head. "And you told Chloe to stay where she was, and she did."

"Hey, little girls can be scary," Azrael protested. "I mean, you're scared of Trixie. And Chloe wanted to keep Trixie away from the yelling people and their offensive signs," Azrael replied, poking at a bit of turkey with her fork. "You're reading too much into this."

"I am not scared of Beatrice," Lucifer protested. "Look, hear me out," he added. "What if you touch your blade and it somehow brings your powers back?"

Azrael regarded him steadily. "We don't know that would happen. And if I'm in this mortal body, I don't particularly _want_ my powers back. I don't want to know... the things I would know, while I'm surrounded by humans."

"So that's a no to the experimentation?" Lucifer said.

Azrael shook her head. "I... no. Or, yes, it's a no. I... I don't want to start something that I can't control. And I don't want to go partway, when it comes to my powers. Aside from my wings, it really needs to be all or nothing." She paused a beat, then added, "Well, and I wouldn't say no to healing abilities, but -" She cut off her words as the server approached their table.

"Are you interested in dessert?" the server asked. "We have an assortment of cakes and pies, as you can see in the case. Our ice cream flavors are listed right on the board there, and our cook just finished making a new batch of pudding."

"Pudding, really? I'll have one of those," Lucifer said cheerfully, though he lifted his eyebrows as Azrael groaned, asking her, "Something wrong with pudding?"

Azrael shook her head, with a quick glance to the server. "It's not important. Can I please get the carrot cake? Carrots," she added virtuously to Lucifer as the server nodded and went to put in the order, "are vegetables."

"Doesn't count if they're in dessert."

Azrael shook her head. "Tell me that when you've eaten kale cake," she replied, making a face. "And, yes, that's a thing. I didn't want to try it; it was Ella's idea. I swear, the humans put kale in _everything_."

Lucifer shuddered. "That sounds ghastly."

"It. Was."

The server brought the desserts and the check, with a cheerful, "Take your time. Obviously, we're not busy."

Azrael dug into her cake, giving Lucifer's pudding a wry look. They ate in silence for a few moments and she asked, "So why are you using my feather to check on me? It can't just be that you wanted to bug me about my sleeping habits."

Lucifer's smile was a little sad. He'd known she wouldn't let it go. "Only I don't want Michael taking you back to the Silver City without my knowing. So I check if you're still here, on occasion. That's all."

"Oh." It's was more an exhalation than an actual word. "Oh, Luci." Azrael reached across the table to rest her hand briefly on his. "Look, I won't leave without telling you, okay? I promise."

"Careful," Lucifer said lightly. "You know how dear old Dad gets when he wants something. Don't make me a promise you can't keep."

"I'm not," Azrael replied, with emphasis. "I'll make sure I can say goodbye."

Lucifer regarded his sister with some skepticism. "You're seriously going to tell Michael or whoever that you won't leave unless you can tell me goodbye?"

Azrael gave Lucifer a level look. "Yes," she said simply. One shoulder lifted in a half-shrug. "I don't think it's too much to ask."

"Oh," Lucifer replied, his brows furrowing. "Rae, you shouldn't -"

Azrael smiled. "I should, and I will."

Lucifer frowned, worried. "I just don't want you to go too far."

Shaking her head, Azrael replied, "That's what you should do for family: you go too far." She paused, then amended, her lips curving a little, "I mean, not our family, of course, but good ones. I haven't been the best sister," she admitted, drawing a line in her cake crumbs with her fork. "But I can do better."

"Rae, you've been far better than the others," Lucifer protested.

Azrael gave Lucifer a long look. "Really, we can set the bar higher than that, can't we?"

"Well." Lucifer cleared his throat, his eyes softening. "Yes. I suppose we can."

Azrael smiled, and took up the check. "Good. I'll take care of this, and we can get going." She got to her feet, her hand resting on her brother's shoulder as she passed, then crossed to the register. After an animated discussion with the cashier, she made her way back to the table to leave a tip.

"Maze," Lucifer reported as he held open the diner door for his sister, "Texted to say that she'll take down the pictures if you tell me the story of what happened in Sumer."

Azrael sighed. "Of course she'd say that."

"What's the problem?" Lucifer queried, adding, "I love stories, especially naughty ones. Is it a naughty one?"

Azrael didn't answer, instead getting into the convertible and buckling her seat belt.

"Ooh, not telling," Lucifer teased. "That's promising. I'll just ask Maze, then..."

"No," Azrael protested, guessing that the demon would spin the story in the way that most amused herself and thus that most embarrassed Azrael. "I'll tell, but I don't think you'll like it. There's not much to it, really."

Lucifer's phone dinged as he started the car. After glancing at it, he said, "Maze says to ask you about shoulders. More of a leg man, myself, but I have been known to enjoy the occasional shoulder."

Azrael eyed him. "You make it sound like a buffet."

Lucifer's brows twitched upward as he grinned. "Well, sometimes biting can be involved, that's true. But don't try and distract me, now; Doctor Linda already taught me about distractions."

Azrael exhaled a quiet sigh, but couldn't quite keep back a smile. "Fine. It was a long time ago..."


	52. Chapter 52

Azrael, tucked away in one of Beelzebean's back tables with a book and a macchiato, looked up as a familiar presence settled into the seat opposite hers. "Hi, Josh," she greeted, tucking in a bookmark and setting the book aside.

"Reincarnation Blues?" Josh queried with a nod to the book, sliding one of the two cups he carried to rest next to her near-empty one.

"I'm in it," Azrael replied, with a shrug. "It's an ARC; one of the librarians let me borrow it. I go by Suzie in the book, which I absolutely would not, but at least I'm female. I'm not really in it much so far; it's more about the guy who reincarnates."

Looking a little amused Josh queried, "Don't the librarians notice all the Death-books you're reading?"

Azrael nodded. "They find them for me, even. Librarians aren't supposed to judge your reading choices. Though I'm pretty sure they call me weird when I'm not around. I suppose, by their standards, I am."

"True," Josh agreed, laughing as Azrael made a wry face. "Hey, you said it. Was I not supposed to agree with you?"

Shaking her head, Azrael murmured, amused, "Son of God, and you can't figure that out? No wonder you're so unlucky in love."

"Hey, now," Josh protested, laughing. "It's not that I'm unlucky. There has always been interest. I just never…" He let his voice trail off, and Azrael nodded.

"Yeah, we're not having that conversation," she said firmly. "I should not have gone there, sorry. Baby brother, disturbing mental images… just no."

His expression growing serious, Josh leaned back in the chair, saying, "Can you guess why I'm here?"

Azrael pretended to ponder the question, tapping at her cheek with one index finger. "You simply could not stand to be without the pleasure of my company for a minute longer," she decided, with a quick smile. "Or, ooh, you wanted to get me another macchiato." She took the cup he'd put before her, with a murmur of thanks, and tasted its contents. "Hey, I was right! Wow, at least somebody is answering my prayers."

"Careful." Despite the warning, Josh looked amused. He said more seriously, "C'mon, Rae. It's been a week since Michael spoke with you."

"An instant," Azrael replied, "Compared to the duration of human existence. Actually, can we go back to discussing your love life or lack thereof? I think that would be more pleasant."

Josh smiled. "It would be boring, Rae. There's nothing to tell."

Azrael sat up, scanning the coffeeshop. "We could make it more interesting…"

Josh, recognizing the danger in his sister's intent expression if not the specifics of what she had in mind, warned, "Rae."

"There she is." Azrael waved, calling brightly, "Alex, hi. Come meet my brother!"

"Rae," Josh protested, but Alex was already there, smiling.

"Hi, Rae's brother," Alex said cheerfully. "I hope you know you've got the sweetest little sister ever."

Azrael smiled, it must be said, angelically. A shaft of sunlight broke through the clouds and shone through the window, turning her hair into a halo, and Josh murmured something about Raziel and weather and overkill. Though, really, it was a little unsettling if their conversation was being followed that closely.

"Josh," Josh supplied. He refrained from commenting on Azrael's sweetness, instead giving his sister a look that mingled amusement and exasperation.

Alex leaned lightly against the table. "Hi, Josh. I'm Alex. It's nice to meet you. Are you the brother Rae was staying with?"

Josh shook his head, supplying, "That's Lucifer."

Alex smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks. "So it's Azrael," she said, "And Lucifer and Josh? That's some weird naming, I have to say."

"Lucifer and I are full siblings, but Josh is a half," Azrael offered. "Same father, vastly different mothers." She paused, then added, "Vastly different life experiences, too, for that matter."

Josh added, though not without a nod acknowledging his sister's words, "And Josh is actually a nickname, though you're welcome to call me that. Rae does."

"What do you do, Josh?" Alex queried.

Azrael answered for him, all girlish enthusiasm, though Josh caught the glint in her eyes. "He's a surfer. He's so good! It's like he can walk on water. Ouch!" She made a face at Josh, then turned back to Alex. "He just kicked me under the table! I guess he doesn't like me bragging on him."

"You shouldn't kick your sister," Alex chided, though she looked like she was trying not to laugh. "I do a little surfing, myself." She looked toward the front of the store as a co-worker called for her, then said, "Maybe I'll see you out there."

Josh said amiably, "She's nice."

"Yes," Azrael agreed, drawing out the word a little as she watched the barista leave.

Josh followed the direction of his sister's gaze and shook his head, amused. "Really?"

Azrael shrugged. "Why not? Doesn't hurt to look. Dad could take it as a compliment."

Josh laughed outright at that, and the couple at the next table smiled to hear him. "You shouldn't have said that about me walking on water," he added, though his tone held no reproof.

With another shrug, Azrael replied, "You saw her - she didn't believe me. They never do. I can say weird things and I get away with it because I'm cute." She offered an overly sweet smile, then chuckled before adding, "Lucifer can get away with even more, with the accent and all. Wonder if that was intentional."

"Still, I'm not sure what you were trying to accomplish, calling her over," Josh observed.

Azrael looked as if she wasn't entirely sure. "It seemed like fun," she said finally. "I mean, it was fun, right? Besides the part where you kicked me."

"It was a tap," Josh protested.

"Pretty violent for the Prince of Peace," Azrael teased. "Next you're going to tell me you're a _bad_ shepherd."

Josh shook his head, looking entertained. "Okay, give me a break. Let's get back to the pudding."

Azrael took another drink of her macchiato, then sighed. "It's a ridiculous task, Josh."

"Think about what you're saying." Josh leaned forward, his words quiet but his dark eyes intent on his sister. "Are you really questioning his will?"

"Josh, where have you been?" Azrael replied, exasperated. "I've been questioning his will this whole time. Come on, don't tell me you didn't have doubts, back in the day. I was there in Gethsemane. I heard you. You asked him to spare you." She added, more quietly, "So did I, not that it mattered."

A flicker of something crossed Josh's expression, but his voice was patient as he replied, "I asked him to spare me if it was his will. His will, not mine, and consider what I was facing." Azrael dropped her gaze, and he added, "Questioning is one thing, but he gave you an order, and you haven't followed it. It's pudding. That's it. I don't understand why you're being so stubborn."

"I just don't see why he wants me to do this," Azrael replied. "I mean, pudding, Josh. And making it myself? Is there something wrong with the cups? I know Dan likes them."

"Too much high fructose corn syrup in those cups," Josh quipped. "Homemade is best."

Azrael fought to keep her expression blank, but the smile escaped her. "This is why he sent you instead of Michael," she accused. "He knew Michael would just go all more-dutiful-than-thou and annoy me. Not that you don't have an element of that, yourself, little brother," she added. "But at least you're entertaining about it."

"Also, Michael has been really distracted lately," Josh added, looking puzzled. "He keeps playing with this little plastic sword. No clue what's up with that, and when I asked him about it, he wouldn't answer."

"Huh," Azrael replied, sounding puzzled. "That's really weird. I mean, he's always been into weaponry, but not plastic."

Josh shrugged, dismissing the topic, then asked gently, "What's this really about, Rae? Why won't you just do as Dad asked?"

Azrael shook her head, her lips tightening a little. "I want to please him," she said, her voice just barely audible over the clamor of the coffee shop. "As long as it doesn't hurt anybody."

His manner pragmatic, Josh replied, "Pudding is hardly likely to bring harm to anyone, unless you spike it with something - which is definitely not part of Dad's plan, so please don't."

A flicker of impatience crossed Azrael's face. "I wouldn't poison Dan. I wouldn't cause harm to any of them."

"You've grown close to them," Josh ventured, with a smile. "It's different, living among them."

Azrael nodded, though she didn't return the smile. "It's like back in the beginning," she said slowly. "When there weren't so many of them. I knew all of them, back then." She took a gulp of her macchiato, then exhaled a soft sigh.

Josh watched her for a long moment. "You haven't really paid much attention to them as individuals in a while, have you? Not since -"

"No," Azrael interrupted, her voice thick with asperity. "I haven't. Until now. Fine. I'll do it, Josh. I'll make the stupid pudding. I'll take it to Dan. Today."

Josh's brows lifted in surprise at his sister's manner. "Rae, I didn't mean to -"

"I know," Azrael replied, with a tight smile. "I'm not angry with you, little brother. But now I need to get to the grocery store." Azrael swept out of Beelzebean, taking her book but leaving the half-full drink.

Josh looked after his sister with a sigh, then tipped his gaze upward. "Hope you're happy."

* * *

Azrael stalked into the apartment she shared with Ella, closing the door behind her with a little more force than was precisely necessary. She had just received a text from Ella: Labwork to do, probably home late. Of course. How convenient. For all that she knew her father didn't manipulate the humans, Azrael still found that suspect. No Ella, no distraction.

She put the grocery bags on the kitchen table with a _thump_ and started to prepare her mise-en-place. "Cornstarch," she muttered, banging the box onto the counter. "Salt." _Thunk._ "Milk." _Thud._ "Eggs." All set to slam the carton of eggs onto the counter, she stopped just in the nick of time, preventing both a mess and another run to the grocery store.

"Okay, take a breath," Azrael instructed herself firmly. She knew that if she didn't focus, she'd likely end up ruining the pudding and have to start over. She reached for her phone and turned on a pick-me-up playlist.

"All right," she said briskly, turning back to her ingredients. "Let's do this."

By the time the pudding was nearly done, she was singing along with the bubblegum pop on her playlist and dancing as best she could while also stirring the pudding.

'Cause wings are made to fly  
And we don't let nobody bring us down  
No matter what you say it won't hurt me  
Don't matter if I fall from the sky  
These wings are made to fly

She was so involved on her singing and dancing (and, to a lesser degree, stirring) that she didn't notice Ella's arrival. Ella after a moment of watching, joined the dance party, happily dropping her work bag and bouncing over to grab Azrael's free hand, spinning the girl in place as the song came to an end.

Laughing, the tech said, "That was great."

"Sometimes I wonder if Dad controls Spotify," Azrael quipped. "But even I am not that paranoid."

Ella nodded, agreeing, "That seems kinda unlikely, yeah."

Turning off the heat under the pudding and moving it to an unheated burner, Azrael agreed deadpan, "Yeah, Dad can't even figure out his DVR." She let the silence hold a moment as Ella stared at her before winking and adding, "Thought you were working late."

With a sound somewhere between relief and amusement, Ella nodded. "Things came together faster than I thought they would." Surveying the kitchen, she asked, "But you're making more desserts, really?"

"Try it," Azrael suggested, taking up the spoon that she had discarded during the dancing and offering Ella a bite of the pudding. "And don't worry, it's a gift for someone else."

Ella tasted the pudding and then sighed happily. "Wow, that is amazing. Who's it for?"

Azrael pulled the pudding off the heat and dropped the spoon into the sink. "Dan."

"Aww, because Maze keeps messing with his pudding? That's so sweet."

"How do you know it's Maze?" Azrael queried, taking the pudding and straining it through a sieve. "I mean, besides the obvious: demon."

Ella grinned. "Saw her eating it in the break room. But, really, that's not so bad as far as evil deeds go."

Azrael nodded her agreement. "Yeah. She could do way worse." She hesitated, then said, "Dad told me to do this. I mean, not directly, but he made his intentions known."

"What, a burning bush in the shape of pudding?" Ella queried. "How would that even work?"

"The burning bush was Luci," Azrael said absently, with a quick grin for Ella's question. "No, he sent, um, emissaries." She pulled out the small basket and the ramekins she'd purchased, and began to portion out the pudding."

Ella regarded the angel thoughtfully, noting her vague answer. "One of them was your brother Michael." Azrael nodded, and Ella said, "It's not like you shouldn't say his name or anything. It's just…"

Azrael paused her work, the spoon resting in the pan. "I'm sorry about all that."

"You don't have to keep apologizing for how he was," Ella reassured. Seeing Azrael's look of uncertainty, Ella said, "If you stop saying you're sorry for your brother, I promise to stop talking about that super-cute picture of you and the sheep." Azrael made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and Ella added, "I'll even take down the copy someone posted on the bulletin board at the precinct."

Azrael stared at the tech in shock. "You're kidding."

"Yes," Ella agreed, laughing. "I'm kidding. Sorry, but the look on your face…"

"Okay, you're totally going to Hell for that," Azrael teased, her expression relieved, but Ella just laughed. Shaking her head, Azrael continued, "Because I wouldn't put it past Mazikeen to do something like that." She started dishing out the last of the pudding.

"Maze," Ella opined, "Would wallpaper the break room with the picture."

Azrael put the pan in the sink and eyed the tech. "No, she would… convince somebody else to do it, but please don't give her any ideas."

Ella sauntered over to the sink and grabbed both the pan and a clean spoon. "She comes up with enough of them on her own," Ella agreed, scooping up some of the leftover pudding.

"I can make you some more of that later," Azrael offered with a smile.

"Nah, I just want a little," Ella replied agreeably. "Thanks, though."

Azrael fitted the tops on the ramekins and loaded up her basket. Considering the butterscotch stains on her shirt, she said, "I'm going to get changed and run these over. Want me to pick up food on the way back?"

"That'd be awesome," Ella replied, with a smile. "Anything's good; surprise me."

Azrael nodded and, after grabbing fresh clothes, ducked into the bathroom. She returned, wearing her red dress, and scooped up her basket.

"Um, Rae?" The girl turned, and Ella shook her head, hiding a smile at the image Azrael made: girl in red dress with basket. "Never mind. Have fun. Don't get lost in the woods."

Azrael, puzzled, set off to make her delivery.

* * *

Azrael knocked briskly on the door to Dan's apartment. Trixie, she knew, was with Chloe, and so wouldn't be present for whatever was going to happen.

As she waited, it suddenly occurred to Azrael that Dan might be taking so long because he wasn't alone. "If Mom is in there with him, so help me," she whispered, just as the door rattled open.

Dan, his hair damp, looked understandably confused to see a girl with a basket on his doorstep, even if the girl was his daughter's friend. "Am I supposed to be the Big Bad Wolf?" he asked, with a smile. Azrael, after a moment of confusion, realized just how she looked, and suddenly Ella's final comment made sense. At least the red dress didn't have a hood.

"Sorry. Inadvertent fairy-tale reference." Azrael smiled. "I brought you a present." She attempted to peer past Dan, asking, "Is anybody else in there?"

"No," Dan replied, his tone bemused. "It's just me. Come on in, but you didn't need to bring me anything."

"Kinda did," Azrael replied under her breath, following Dan into the apartment. It was definitely a bachelor pad, with minimal furniture. Trixie had left a few touches, though: books on a table, a denim jacket hanging on a hook, and pictures on the refrigerator. Several featured Trixie and a be-winged Azrael, flying.

In one of them, Azrael's wings were _pink_.

Seeing her studying the pictures, Dan said, "That Christmas play really made an impression, I guess. She's been drawing pictures like that ever since."

"Yeah," Azrael replied vaguely, putting the basket on the small table. "It was, um, an experience." She slid the basket a little closer to Dan.

He opened it, still caught between amusement and confusion. "You really didn't have to - what is this?" He started pulling the ramekins out of the basket, giving Azrael a curious look.

"Pudding," Azrael explained. "It should still be warm."

Dan stared at her, perplexed. "Why would you bring me pudding?"

"God told me to," Azrael replied, not really caring if he believed her. "Via the Archangel Michael and Jesus."

"Very funny," Dan replied, shaking his head. "That's right, you were there when I talked to your brother about it." Azrael nodded, and Dan continued, "That's nice of you, but you really didn't have to. What kind is it?"

Azrael smiled. Of course he didn't believe her. "Butterscotch. Seriously, try it while it's still warm. That's when it's the best."

The last of the ramekins made a soft clattering noise as it slipped from Dan's suddenly loosened grip. "Butterscotch?" As Azrael nodded, he began, very carefully, to pry the lid off the small dish. He lifted the container to his nose and inhaled carefully, then rummaged in a drawer for a spoon. He took a hearty spoonful and tasted it, his eyes closing blissfully.

Azrael, a little uncomfortable with the depth of the man's apparent affection for his pudding, edged closer to the door. "What did I just do?" she whispered, with a quick, uncertain glance upward.

Dan opened his eyes. "How did you know?" he asked, with more intensity than Azrael really felt pudding warranted, even homemade. It wasn't like she'd made a croquembouche, after all.

"How did I know… what?" Azrael queried. Looking closer, she was shocked to see that Dan's eyes were glistening.

Dan gestured for Azrael to come closer, and she did, perching on one of the chairs. Dan sank into the other chair. "How did you know to bring me this pudding?" He took another spoonful, obviously savoring it, then said abruptly, "I… Sorry, this is rude. Would you like some?"

Azrael shook her head. "No, thanks. I tasted as I made it, and I've got kind of a sugar buzz. But if there's coffee, that'd be great." She carefully ignored the first question. She had, after all, already told him.

"You made this?" Dan repeated, looking perhaps a little relieved that he didn't have to share. "Where did you get the recipe?" Discombobulated by the pudding, he didn't even question the appropriateness of coffee, instead pouring it into a mug emblazoned with _#1 Dad_ and putting it on the table before her.

Azrael smiled, murmuring her thanks for the coffee and taking a drink. "It's pudding. I mean, it's not too complicated."

"You don't understand," Dan said. He took another spoonful of pudding and studied it for a moment before eating it. He finished the bite and a soft sigh escaped him.

"You're right about that," Azrael agreed, eyeing him with amused puzzlement.

Dan sighed again in contentment. "I haven't had this since I was a kid. My dad used to make it for me. I'd come home from school and it would be waiting for me." He actually put down the food to explain to Azrael, his eyes warm with nostalgia, "He'd make it before he had to go off to work, and it was still warm like this when I got home. He seemed to know when I'd had a bad day, and it'd be waiting for me."

Flicking a glance at her mug, then the ceiling, Azrael murmured, "A little heavy-handed, isn't it?"

"What?" asked Dan, frowning in confusion.

"What?" echoed Azrael, all innocent puzzlement.

Dan shook his head, then said, "He died when I was about your age. I haven't tasted pudding like this since the week before it happened. It's… this is amazing; it's exactly like I remember."

Azrael blinked, then shot another look skyward. Dan, seeing the direction of her gaze, looked up as well, then eyed the girl in confusion. "Are you okay?"

Azrael nodded. "I'm fine," she replied. "Sorry about your dad. That's rough. Do you have a picture of him?"

Dan gave his pudding a brief, longing look, but did get up and disappeared down the hallway. He returned after a moment with a framed photograph of a much younger Dan, his hairstyle involving an overabundance of gel and truly unfortunate frosted tips, and a man who must be his father.

"Heart attack," Azrael murmured, studying the picture.

"What?" Dan stared at the girl, his eyes narrowing. "How did you know that's how he died?"

Azrael took a long drink of coffee and seriously considered spilling it on herself as a distraction. "Maybe Chloe mentioned it," she said finally.

Dan didn't look convinced. "How did you end up talking about my father with Chloe?"

"Well." Azrael put down the coffee cup, wishing that Dan's phone would ring to summon him to a homicide, that a fire alarm would sound, that the ceiling would collapse - well, maybe not that. "Fathers came up a while back. Chloe and I were talking about her dad; Trixie had gotten out a picture of them." She turned her gaze to the picture. "Trixie has that exact smile."

Dan looked at the picture as well, smiling. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "She really does."

Azrael nudged the ramekin closer to Dan and he took up the spoon again. He took another bite of the pudding before considering the girl, the suspicion returning to his expression. "I don't think -" he began, but he cut off his words as a knock sounded.

Azrael breathed a quiet prayer of thanksgiving as Dan got up to answer the door.

"Oh. Hi." Dan's voice sounded oddly strangled. "I'm a little, um."

"What, too busy for me, Daniel?" a familiar voice purred. "I doubt that."

Azrael looked sharply to the door, just in time to see her mother breeze past the detective.

"What could you possibly be… oh, hello, sweetheart. What are you doing here?" Charlotte seemed entirely unconcerned by her daughter's presence.

Dan, on the other hand, turned the most intriguing shade of red. "Your mom's here about… about a case," he said, clearly flustered.

"Oh, we all know that's not true," Charlotte said, with a low, rich chuckle.

Azrael couldn't quite see where Charlotte's hand was, but whatever she did made Dan jump away from her with a nervous laugh.

"Mom," Azrael reproved, hiding a smile. "I'm right here."

"Well, you might learn something, sweetheart," Charlotte replied, winking as Dan gaped at her. "But, really, why are you here?"

Dan, prudently putting the table between himself and the Goddess of All Creation, said, "God told her to bring me pudding."

Charlotte turned a sharp eye on her daughter. "Did he, now?"

Azrael shifted uncomfortably in her chair and took a diversionary sip of coffee. The collapsed ceiling was starting to sound good. "Michael said -" she began.

"Your brother was here?" Charlotte asked, her expression hopeful.

Azrael nodded as Dan watched the conversation in confusion. "Not _here_ here, but he's been around a few times."

"Oh." Charlotte's expression went a little hurt. "And he knows that I'm here?"

Azrael sighed. "Mom, you know he's chosen his side."

There was an uncomfortable silence, then Dan cleared his throat, his gaze turning to Azrael. "I still would like to know how you knew about my dad."

"Well," Azrael said, getting to her feet. "Mom will tell you." She smiled, certain her mother would do no such thing. "Enjoy the pudding, Dan. And if you guys use it for, um, other purposes, please don't tell me… and be sure it cools enough, first."

As Dan stared at her, Azrael made a speedy retreat, closing the door firmly behind her. Her mother, she hoped, would provide ample distraction, even if she didn't want to think too hard about what form it would take.

She wasn't surprised when Michael fell into step with her outside the apartment building.

"Not yet," Michael said in answer to her unspoken question, looking a little frustrated. "Mom wasn't supposed to -" He sighed and didn't finish.

Azrael eyed him. "What, she interrupted?" Michael didn't answer, and Azrael suggested, all innocence, "Maybe you should go tell her."

That earned her a withering look from Michael. "I'm not stupid, little sister. I know what they're up to in there, and I'm certainly not going to interrupt."

A brief flicker of amused disappointment crossed Azrael's face before she regarded her brother in horrified fascination. "Do you know the specifics? No, don't tell me. I don't want to know. Let's move on to you telling me why you're here, so I can go eat something that's not sugar."

"Just wanted to express my gratitude that you finally did as you're told," Michael replied, though he sounded peevish, rather than grateful. "It would have been nice if it hadn't taken Yeshua coming down to motivate you." Nettled, Michael added, "I'm not more-dutiful-than-thou, and I'm not annoying."

Azrael sighed. "You heard that? Sorry." She didn't sound particularly contrite.

"I do pay attention," Michael replied, making a face at her tone.

Azrael nodded. "Because you want Dad's plan to succeed, whatever it is."

"Little sister," Michael said, not without a certain amount of condescension, "Does it ever occur to you that our father actually knows what he's doing? That he may have sent you down here to accomplish something good?"

Azrael walked in silence for a moment. "It's just that, where his kids are concerned, his track record isn't so hot. Besides, you don't know what he's intending, right?"

"Well, no," Michael admitted. He stopped walking and Azrael, after a moment, turned to face him. His expression serious, Michael said, "Look, when something happens later, do what feels right. Don't worry about repercussions." Seeing Azrael's wary expression, he added, "That's from our father."

"Well, that's not reassuring at all," Azrael said, a little sourly. Seeing that Michael looked unlikely to elaborate, she instead asked, "So what's the deal with the little plastic sword?"

Michael didn't reply, but one hand slipped into his pocket.

"Wait, your sword is small enough to keep in your pocket?" Azrael caught her own words, then bit back a laugh. "Be glad Luci wasn't around to hear that. I'm not going to continue that line of thought, though. I've had too many sexually charged conversations with family members today to go there."

Michael gaped at his sister. "Living here has changed you," he said firmly.

Azrael smiled. "You know, brother, I think you're right about that."

Michael said severely, "That wasn't a compliment."

Azrael didn't look concerned. "There's a time when I would have been upset by that, or worried. But today I'm just buzzed enough - on the pudding our father wanted me to make, so don't look at me like that - that I don't care. So why did Dad want me to make the pudding? So that I'd see Dan missing his father and get all nostalgic for mine? That sure didn't work."

"No," Michael said crisply. "That wasn't the point of all that, though it wouldn't exactly be a bad thing if you could summon a little filial piety for once."

"For once?" Azrael echoed, a note of amusement in her voice. "When have I been disrespectful to our father? And in case you've forgotten, we do have two parents. You're the one who flew off the handle at me for daring to suggest that you're like Mom."

"That's different," Michael replied stiffly.

"Really? How?" When Michael didn't answer, Azrael said, "That's what I thought. Look, not that I would wish you on her, but Mom would actually like to see you. I mean, probably not right at this precise moment, but she did seem to miss you, Dad knows why…"

Michael still didn't answer, though his gaze flicked toward the apartment building and he did look briefly contrite.

"So," Azrael said. "The little sword?"

"Ella gave it to me," Michael replied, pulling the small piece of plastic from his pocket and showing it to his sister. It was slightly bet from having been carried in a pocket.

"Oh." Azrael considered the sword, then offered, "It's nice. Very, um, pointy. And you're still carrying it around with you?"

"Obviously." Michael tucked away the sword, then asked, too casually, "How is she?"

Azrael shook her head. "You messed up when you spoke the way you did about Mazikeen - yes, I heard what happened," she added, noting Michael's startled look.

"But she's a demon," Michael protested.

With a sigh, Azrael explained patiently, "She's Ella's friend. And you're an archangel, but you still manage to drive me up the wall on the regular, so maybe knock off the stereotypes. It's not like we're all cast from the same mold, angels _or_ demons. You can't paint us all with the same brush." As Michael drew a breath to argue, she cut off his words. "Look, brother, I'm hungry and this conversation isn't going to go well, especially with all these metaphors. If you want to try again when I've had a burger or something to counteract all this sugar, I'll think about it. Besides," she added, with a grin, "It's my turn to make a dramatic exit." And she darted behind a nearby building and took to the air, leaving Michael staring after her.

* * *

Much later, Dan, despite his vow to ration them, finished off his second pudding. He considered the hour and deemed it not too late, then sent off a text to Chloe. _Can I come by? We need to talk about Lucifer's sister._


	53. Chapter 53

Dan looked a little uncomfortable as he stepped through Chloe's door. "Hey, thanks for doing this," he said. Chloe nodded, with a smile that she tried not to force, and Dan asked, "Where's Trixie?"

"Doing her homework," Chloe supplied, not bothering to add that she had suggested homework time. She led Dan to the couch, pulling on an encouraging smile and trying to put him at ease. "What's up?"

Dan sat, though he still held himself a little stiffly. "How much do you know about Lucifer's little sister?"

Chloe sank back against the couch. "Not a lot," she admitted. "Why?"

Dan leaned forward, his expression intent. "Did you ever talk to her about my father?"

Chloe shook her head, puzzled. "No, he's never come up. Is everything okay?"

Dan looked troubled as he said, "She showed up at my place today, with pudding."

"Well," Chloe replied, with a quick smile. "You don't look happy about that. Wasn't it any good? Rae made cinnamon rolls for us last week and they were amazing, but maybe she's better with baked goods and not so great with pudding."

"It's not funny," Dan flared.

Chloe shot a look toward Trixie's room. Intentionally keeping her voice quiet and level, she said, "I never said it was. Look, Dan, what's the problem?"

"She knew how my Dad died," Dan said, his jaw working as he formulated his words. "And she said God told her to bring me pudding, and it was the same pudding that he - my dad, not Rae's - used to make for me."

"Well, she's pretty religious," Chloe began, firmly steering her mind away from what kind of pudding Azrael's father would make.

"You don't honestly think that _God_ told her to bring me pudding, Chloe." It was not a question.

Chloe chose her words carefully. She didn't want to lie to her ex, but telling the whole truth was definitely not going to happen. "Maybe Rae thinks he did."

With a snort, Dan said, "That doesn't really make me feel better. Why would she think that? I mean, why would anybody think that God - assuming that he exists, which I'm not so sure about these days - would ask some random kid to bring me pudding?"

"I doubt he asked some random kid to bring you pudding," Chloe agreed lightly. She got to her feet and poured two glasses of wine.

Dan accepted his drink without comment and took a healthy gulp before adding, "I mean, at least with Joan of Arc there was a battle, something big. But pudding?"

"Yeah, and look what that got Joan," Chloe muttered, suddenly questioning that history paper she'd written in high school. Raising her voice, she added, "Rae isn't Joan of Arc, Dan. I think you're getting worked up over nothing. Pudding isn't that big a deal."

Dan shook his head, setting aside the wine. "But how did she know how my dad died? That's just creepy, Chlo. And sometimes… do you ever notice that sometimes she just doesn't act like a regular kid? She'll make these little side comments, and sometimes the expression on her face… she's really strange, Chloe."

Chloe, having a feeling she would need it, kept her own drink close. "From what Lucifer has said, she's had kind of a strange upbringing, and her parents' split was rough on her. It's no wonder she seems a little odd sometimes."

"I just don't think Trixie should hang out with this kid any more," Dan said firmly.

"No!" Trixie wailed, popping up from behind the breakfast bar before Chloe even had time to react. "Daddy, she's my friend!"

Chloe peered at Trixie in surprise. "How'd you get back there, baby?"

"Maze showed me how to sneak, and to be really quiet. I'm the best in my whole school at hide-and-seek now." Despite her upset, Trixie managed a smile. "Even the teachers couldn't find me, last time." She darted over to sit next to Dan. "Please don't say I can't be around Rae," she begged, her smile disappearing. "She'll explain everything."

"Trixie," Chloe cautioned.

"She _will_ ," Trixie insisted.

Dan put an arm around his daughter. "Monkey, sometimes Mommy and Daddy know better. We've been doing this a little longer than you."

Trixie shook her head. "Not longer than Rae, though." She took a deep breath, ignoring her father's look of amused puzzlement, and then repeated, "She'll explain everything when she gets here. I told her to come over."

Chloe peered at her daughter. She would have heard a phone call, as close as Trixie had been. "You… called her?" She wasn't entirely sure how the whole prayer thing worked, or if Azrael could even hear them in her current form.

The look Chloe received gave a hint of the teenager Trixie would become. "I texted her. On my _phone_ , Mom."

"How else would Trixie call her, Chlo?" Dan asked, looking confused.

"Babe, that… might not have been a good idea," Chloe said gently to Trixie, ignoring Dan's question for now.

"Rae will help, Mommy," Trixie assured her, with obvious faith in her friend.

The doorbell sounded a constant peal, as if someone was leaning on it; Chloe hurried to admit a rather breathless Azrael. "Trixie said there's an emergency?"

Trixie pelted across the room and grabbed Azrael's hand, her expression not quite defiant, but close.

"Take it easy," Azrael murmured, not wanting to incite a pint-sized rebellion. "What's wrong?"

"Daddy doesn't want us to be friends," Trixie informed Azrael.

Azrael kept a straight face with some effort. "Okay," she said. "Well, I'd say that counts as an emergency, then." She gave Trixie's hand a quick squeeze. "It'll be okay," she reassured, her thoughtful gaze turning to Dan.

"How did you get here so quickly?" Dan demanded. He turned to Chloe, "How did she - Trixie, when did you text her?"

"Just a couple minutes ago," Trixie replied, clinging to Azrael's hand.

Azrael led Trixie over to a chair and sat, her gaze lingering briefly on Dan's wine as Trixie squeezed into the seat with her. "I take it your guest didn't illuminate things for you this afternoon?" she asked, though her expression was serious rather than the usual teasing tone she took when discussing her mother around Dan.

Dan coughed and took a quick drink, giving Azrael a rather intent look, as if urging her to keep quiet. "No."

Azrael nodded. "That's what I figured." She turned to Chloe. "Dad's trying to force my hand," she said tightly. "I mean, not that I'm entirely blameless; I should have kept my mouth shut about his dad."

Chloe, distracted from Dan's embarrassed look by Azrael's words, asked faintly, "Your father wants you to tell Dan? I thought that wasn't allowed."

Azrael put her free hand on Trixie's arm in an attempt to still the child's excited bouncing. "It's not, or at least I thought it wasn't. But Dad might have an ulterior motive."

"What are you talking about?" Dan demanded, starting to look frustrated. "What does Rae's father have to do with this? Whatever it is, you should tell me. If it has to do with my daughter, I have a right to know."

Azrael studied Dan, her manner cool and assessing. "You really don't know what you're asking me to do."

Dan turned to Chloe, saying irritably, "This is just the sort of thing I'm talking about, Chloe." He eyed Trixie, who was watching with interest, then added carefully, "Ot-nay ormal-nay."

Trixie, still looking far too excited for the seriousness of the conversation, said brightly, "I know Pig Latin, Daddy. What's not normal? Rae?" Her eyes sparkling, she added, "You have _no_ idea."

"Trixie," Azrael murmured, shaking her head.

Before she could say anything more, Maze burst through the door. Very quietly, Azrael said a word that made Trixie's eyes go wide.

The demon took in the scene and demanded, "What's the emergency?" Nobody answered, and Maze stalked over to Azrael. "You texted me that there was an emergency. I was just about to -" Her eyes slid to Trixie then flickered to the girl's parents before she amended, "- do something."

"Sorry," Azrael replied, sounding contrite. "I was afraid I might need backup, and I just got here. No time to send you an update."

"Daddy doesn't want Rae and me to be friends," Trixie added, with a woeful look toward her father.

"Now, look," Dan started as Maze turned on him, eyebrows lifted in inquiry. "This isn't any of your business, Maze. And, Rae, I'm sorry, but this is a decision for Chloe and me. Trixie shouldn't have gotten you over here."

Maze made an exasperated noise and turned back to Azrael as Chloe and Dan engaged in a heated, low-voiced conversation. "What did you do?"

"Let slip that I knew how his father died," Azrael admitted with a grimace, casually shifting her position to block Trixie's view of Chloe and Dan. "I think it got a little too weird for him."

With an annoyed huff, Maze said, "Let me guess, you want to tell him."

"I was thinking about it," Azrael admitted. "But there are complications."

Trixie offered, "I think she should."

Maze lifted her eyes skyward. "Do you maybe want to put up a billboard or something, Fun Size?" she demanded, exasperated. "It would be quicker."

Azrael sighed. "He'd be the last, Mazikeen. I swear it. Look, I saw Michael earlier, and he gave me the impression that Dad wants me to tell Dan."

"I don't care what that tool said," Maze snapped. "And if Daddy wants you to do it, you definitely shouldn't."

Azrael inhaled deeply, a calming breath. "While I'm not basing this on what would annoy my parents more, there is also the complicating factor of what Mom would think. She's made it pretty clear that she would rather Dan didn't know."

"So," Maze drawled. "Daddy wants you to tell, but that would upset Mommy. You're basically screwed no matter what you do, TD."

Azrael nodded to Maze, her expression rather frustrated. "Thanks for summing that up, Mazikeen," she said, a biting note of sarcasm in her voice. "I really hadn't made the connection."

Trixie squeezed Azrael's hand. With a furtive glance toward her parents, who were still deep in conversation, she said, "That sucks, Rae."

Azrael couldn't help but smile a little at Trixie's words. "Thanks. It does."

"Not bad, as far as torment goes," Maze observed, with a smirk.

"I don't think my father is actively trying to torment me, Mazikeen," Azrael protested, though she still didn't look happy.

Mazikeen snorted. "What, like sending you here in that body doesn't qualify?"

Azrael didn't reply, her lips tightening, and Trixie offered, "I like your body, Rae."

After a warning look to Maze, who was clearly trying not to laugh, Azrael replied, "Thanks, Trixie."

The little girl continued, "If you're going to make your dad or mom mad no matter what, why don't you just tell my dad who you are? Then he'll understand everything and we can stay friends."

Azrael closed her eyes.

Maze asked sweetly, "Feel like torment yet, TD?"

"I just feel like Mom and I really connected, last time we spoke," Azrael said, though it seemed like she was talking to herself.

"Please, Rae?" Trixie asked hopefully, and Azrael winced.

"Wow," Maze marveled. "She doesn't even need knives."

Azrael took a deep breath. "Okay," she agreed. "Mom's going to be upset, though."

"Well, then, I'll tell Dan," Maze offered. "I'm always up for pissing off your mom, and I don't really care what she thinks. Besides, can't let you have all the fun." The demon turned to Dan and Chloe. "Listen up, Dan."

"Maze," Chloe warned, her eyes gone wide.

"He can take it, Decker," Maze said with a smirk. "Dan," she said brightly, "Lucifer's really the Devil, I'm a demon, and Fun Size over here used to be the Angel of Death. That's how she knew about your father. She said the one who took his soul to… wherever he ended up."

Trixie added cheerfully, "See, Daddy? Everything's fine."

Azrael's facepalm wasn't audible, but her sigh was. "Mazikeen, you could have eased him into it. And he went to Heaven."

Maze shrugged. "Oops."

Dan stared at Maze, shifted his gaze to Azrael, then turned back to Chloe. "What is she talking about?" he demanded.

"Dan," Chloe said gently. "I know this is a lot to take in -"

"You're not telling me you believe this, right?" Dan demanded. "Chloe, you don't even believe in God."

Chloe, suddenly the focus of the room, temporized, "Well, not necessarily the benevolent, New Testament version, no, but I could definitely make a case for the vengeful one."

"Plus, he's a dick," Maze added, earning herself a warning glare from Chloe, followed by a significant look toward Trixie. "What?" Maze asked. "She knows that word."

Trixie all but radiated innocence, and Azrael had to pause to admire her technique.

"This is…" Dan, briefly distracted by the peanut gallery, made a frustrated gesture. "This is ridiculous. God, if he exists, is definitely not a -" Dan didn't finish the sentence, with a quick look toward his daughter, but the intent was clear.

"No, he totally is," Maze murmured.

Dan rounded on her. "And you're not a demon, because they're not real! God, you people need help."

"Not really the best time to be calling on him," Azrael observed.

Chloe rested her head in her hands, mumbling, "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

Trixie looked up at Azrael. "You're going to have to show him."

"The little human's right," Maze agreed.

"You really were the only one who didn't need proof," Azrael mused, with a speculative glance for the girl at her side. Trixie shrugged, but looked pleased.

Chloe didn't say anything. She lifted her head from her hands, her expression concerned.

"Show me what?" Dan demanded. "Chloe, this is insane! You all are delusional."

Azrael turned to Chloe. "What do you think?"

Chloe stared at the girl. "You're asking _me_?"

With a small shrug, Azrael replied, "You know him better than I do."

"It'll be okay," Trixie encouraged her mother, though she subsided when Azrael rested a hand on her arm, instead watching and listening alertly.

Chloe shook her head. "You're not putting this on me."

Azrael sighed. "There goes my deniability. I could have told everyone, 'Chloe said I could.'" She let her gaze rest on each of the room's occupants: Chloe, worried; Dan, upset and disbelieving; Maze, amused and watchful; and finally Trixie, who looked at her with such appeal that Azrael got to her feet and stepped closer to the door, giving herself some space. "Do you honestly think it will help?" she asked Trixie.

The girl nodded solemnly, and Azrael turned an inquiring look to Chloe.

"Maybe," Chloe allowed. "Eventually. But that doesn't count as me telling you do do it."

"Do what?" Dan demanded. "Look, Rae," he added, gentling his voice and his manner to something appropriate for the child he still believed her to be. "It's all right. Show me, whatever it is."

Maze grinned. "There's your deniability, Fun Size."

Azrael shook her head dismissively. "He doesn't know what he's saying." The silence held for a moment, then she apparently came to a decision. "You told Dan, so you get to tell Lucifer about this," she informed Maze.

The demon snorted, but shifted to a spot where she could see both Dan and Azrael.

"Remember," Azrael told Dan. "You asked me to do this." She hesitated, then added, "It'll be okay." The angel took a deep breath and unfurled her wings.

"Holy shit," Dan gasped.

"Daddy," Trixie scolded, though her disapproval didn't last long. Not when there were wings.

"I always wondered why they say that," Maze observed, to nobody in particular. "Whose shit? What makes it holy?"

Chloe muttered, "Not the time, Maze."

Trixie all but skipped over to Azrael, offering brightly, "Aren't they pretty, Daddy? You can touch them if you want."

"I'm the one who gets to decide that," Azrael commented mildly to Trixie. Eyeing Dan with some concern, she added, "It would be a little weird, all things considered."

Dan did not look particularly chastened by his daughter's words. He scrambled to his feet, nearly upsetting his wine in the process. "I'm good," he breathed, regarding Azrael's wings in shock. "Don't need to touch them, no."

"Not a delusion," Maze offered, too cheerfully. "And if we're insane, you just went there with us."

"Maze, please," Chloe murmured.

Dan realized that his mouth was hanging open and closed it, still staring at Azrael. "You have wings," he managed finally.

"Yes," Azrael agreed pleasantly. She whisked away her wings, asking, "Is that better? I know they can be distracting."

Dan didn't answer, instead staring at the angel.

"Sorry, little human," Maze said to Trixie, though she didn't sound particularly sorry. "Looks like we broke your father."

"No, you didn't," Trixie replied firmly. She moved to Dan's side, grasping his hand. "He's okay - right, Daddy?"

"Yeah," Dan agreed automatically. "I'm good." He swallowed convulsively, then, after a glance down at his daughter, visibly tried to get it together.

"Dan, _are_ you okay?" Chloe asked, honestly concerned for her ex-husband. "We could get Linda over here. She really helped me when I found out."

Dan shook his head to Chloe, not really wanting any more witnesses. He turned a rather wild-eyed look on Maze. "So you're actually…"

"A demon," Maze agreed, a flicker of wariness on her face.

"Isn't it cool?" Trixie asked brightly, swinging Dan's hand.

Dan took a deep breath, postponing the freakout that he desperately wanted to have until his enthusiastic daughter wasn't present. "Really cool," he agreed weakly. "Monkey, don't you have homework?"

"I'm all done," Trixie replied, with a cheerful smile. "It's not like I had a lot."

Biting back a smile, Chloe said, "We've got grown-up things to talk about, so why don't you go get ready for bed? I'll come tuck you in later, yeah? And no sneaking back down here, no matter what Maze taught you."

Maze grinned. "A girl's got to have skills."

Trixie sighed, but leaned in to hug her father; he patted her back, mumbling his goodnight. Trixie claimed hugs from the others as well, though her quiet words to Azrael caused the angel to reply, amused, "No, I'm a grown-up. I get to stay."

That earned her a startled look from Dan as Trixie headed to her room. "Well, that makes certain conversations a little less disturbing," he said carefully.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Azrael replied, unrepentant.

As Chloe rested a reassuring hand on her ex-husband's arm, Dan said to Azrael, "You're really an angel."

"Do you need to see the wings again?" Azrael asked, her question obviously sincere.

Dan shook his head. "Maybe later. But… are they ever pink?"

"No," Azrael replied, her lips curving. "Your daughter wanted to dye them with Kool-Aid last week," she said, missing Maze's speculative look. "And I think she also mentioned glitter."

Dan took a deep breath, clearly taking everything in. "And you're a demon," he said to Maze.

"Forged in the bowels of Hell," Maze confirmed.

"And Lucifer is really the Devil," Dan said slowly. "Holy shit." Apparently drawing another conclusion, he went just a little green. He turned back to Azrael. "And your mother?"

Maze settled down to a seat. "This should be fun."

Azrael flicked a quick glance to Chloe, then turned back to Dan. "Charlotte Richards is currently housing my mother, the, ah, Goddess of All Creation." She hesitated, then added, "She and my father haven't been together in a very long time. It was kind of a messy breakup."

Dan sat down hard. "Your father," he echoed. "Oh, man. I'm totally going to Hell."

"I don't know," Azrael said slowly. "I don't have my full powers - long story - and I can't tell. But probably not for _that_."

"And, hey," Maze said, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Heaven would be pretty awkward for you, Dan. Don't you think?"

Chloe protested, giving Maze a perplexed look, "He shot Malcolm, but it was to protect me, even though he should have handled it differently. He wouldn't go to Hell for that, would he?" She cast a look of appeal to Azrael, who shrugged.

"Oh, that's not why," Maze replied archly.

"Mazikeen," Azrael cautioned softly. "This isn't the time."

"I slept with Charlotte Richards," Dan blurted, disturbed enough by the evening's events to make the admission. "With…" He shook his head, unable to say out loud that he slept with a Goddess. "That's why I'm going to Hell."

The room went quiet. Maze swallowed her tart retort to Azrael in favor of looking between Chloe and Dan, her eyes wide with surprise and mirth. Azrael took a step toward the door, considering flight.

"What?" Chloe breathed, though she had clearly heard her ex.

"We should go," Azrael said firmly to Maze, as Dan started a fumbling explanation.

Maze shook her head, watching the detectives in fascination. "You can go," she replied. "I live here." She paused, then offered, "I'll make some popcorn, if you want to stay."

Azrael looked briefly tempted, then shook her head. "I have to go talk to Mom."

Maze made a short, derisive sound. "I guarantee that staying here would be more fun."

"You're probably right," Azrael agreed with a grimace. "But needs must. Just… make sure Trixie stays upstairs, okay?"

Maze nodded and started for the kitchen, apparently serious about the popcorn.

Azrael headed for the door. "And I'm available if Dan has more questions." Hearing no response, but for the low-voiced conversation between Chloe and Dan, she made her exit. Standing outside the apartment, she took a deep breath, trying to psych herself up for the talk to come.

"Hey, Fun Size." Maze stood in the doorway, illuminated from behind. "You want that backup now?"

 _Yes,_ Azrael thought. "No," she said lightly. "Given your history with Mom, that seems like a bad idea."

Maze looked briefly disappointed, affirming, at least in Azrael's mind, the rightness of her decision. The demon gave her a knowing look but said only, "Suit yourself."

The door closed behind her with a certain finality.

* * *

 **Author's note: I was hoping to finish this before the season 3 premiere, but that is obviously not going to happen. The end is in sight, though, and I'm going to try and get another chapter before then. Reviews and virtual baked goods are appreciated. :)**


	54. Chapter 54

Azrael stood outside the door to the house where her mother was living and swallowed hard. She hadn't vomited since that first miserable, alcohol-fueled night in the penthouse and she had no desire to experience that again, but nerves had brought her close to that point. She tried taking deep breaths, with limited success.

The rain had started midway through her flight: not so heavy that she had to land, but enough that she looked bedraggled and felt unpleasantly damp. Maybe her mother would take pity on her.

Since Charlotte hadn't specifically told her not to tell Dan, she could argue that it wasn't outright defiance; that was something she'd avoided with her mother since she'd grown old enough for youth not to excuse her behavior, and then, well, her mother had been in Hell. Still, she wasn't sure Charlotte would see it that way. She didn't know her mother any more, not really; they'd been apart for too long. She really had no idea what the reaction would be to her news.

Part of her wished that she hadn't come, even though she knew that Charlotte should absolutely not find out what had happened by chance, or worse, Dad forbid, from Dan himself. How, Azrael wondered, had she reached the point where she wished she was eating popcorn with a demon?

Ducking into a shadowy spot, Azrael loosed her wings to shield her phone from the rain, sparing a moment of grim amusement for their unexpected usefulness, and sent a quick text requesting her mother's presence.

Azrael tucked away her wings and settled in to wait. The rain had picked up and, feeling her dress clinging unpleasantly to her, Azrael sent a sour look skyward.

It didn't take long for Charlotte to arrive. With a small smile, she drew Azrael under an awning. "Sweetheart, I know you have the sense to get out of the rain."

"It's dark," Azrael replied, though she didn't manage a smile in response. "I didn't see this spot."

Frowning a little at the state her daughter was in, Charlotte cast a look toward her house. "The children are still up, or I'd ask you inside. Here, you look like you're freezing." She pulled off her jacket and tucked it around her daughter's shoulders. "Better?" she asked, with another smile.

Azrael nestled into the warmth of the jacket, knowing that cold wasn't the only reason for her tremors. Still, she said, "Yes, thank you." A oddly familiar scent clung to the jacket: honeysuckle and woodsmoke and something she couldn't quite define, though it picked at her memory.

"Well," Charlotte said, smoothing Azrael's hair the best she could given the damp. "Not that I'm not pleased to see you, but what brought you here?"

Azrael pulled the jacket a little closer. "Dan." She took a deep breath, unable to continue, and thunder rumbled overhead. Casting a frustrated look toward the sky, she muttered, "I'm trying, okay? I don't need ominous thunder."

Her expression growing suspicious, Charlotte looked skyward as well. "Raziel, if that's you, stop tormenting your sister," she said, her voice stern.

Azrael wasn't sure, but it seemed like the rain lightened a little, and there was no more thunder.

"Now." Charlotte turned her gaze on her daughter. "You were about to tell me something about Daniel."

Azrael, suddenly feeling her body's age, nodded. "I'm sorry, Mother. He knows about us. Who we are." She hesitated, then added, "What we are."

Charlotte did not speak for a long moment, and Azrael actually wished for more thunder; it would break the silence, at least.

"You told him?" Charlotte asked finally, her voice brittle.

Azrael took a deep breath, considering her response. Technically, the answer to her mother's question was no, but she didn't want to give Charlotte further reason for enmity with Maze, especially when the decision to tell Dan had been her own. Strange. There was a time when she wouldn't have hesitated to throw the demon under the bus, even on a technicality. "It's because of what happened at Dan's apartment," she admitted, avoiding a direct answer. "He got suspicious."

"He did seem distracted at first," Charlotte mused, and Azrael grimaced at the mental images her mother's words inspired. Lifting her gaze once more, Charlotte said, her voice sharp, "You were at Daniel's apartment because your father wanted you to be there. Correct? Daniel said your father told you to bring him pudding."

"Mom," Azrael began faintly, not wanting to implicate one parent to another.

Charlotte turned her eyes from the sky to her daughter. "Answer the question, Azrael," she said, a note of warning in her voice.

Azrael nodded miserably. The only reason the saw the pained look that crossed her mother's face was that she was watching for it; an instant later, and Charlotte's expression had smoothed to blandness.

"I see." Charlotte said, her voice small and hard, and hinting at the memory of millenia of slights. "And what was Daniel's reaction?"

"Not positive," Azrael admitted, remembering Dan's insistence that he was going to Hell. "I'm sorry, Mom."

Charlotte shook her head, her jaw tightening. "It was your father's doing. He can't even let me have -" Azrael turned away, and Charlotte fell silent.

"Look, give Dan time," Azrael urged. "These humans, they're resilient."

"Don't I know it," Charlotte murmured, her smile and her tone of voice sending Azrael's imagination places she did want it to go.

Had her mother learned Lucifer's deflection trick, too?

Azrael made a face. "Mom, not everything is about… that."

"No," Charlotte agreed, with a faint smile for her daughter's word-avoidance. "But I've found that it can greatly improve quite a few situations. You may want to remember that."

"Mother," Azrael protested.

"No, hear me out. You're not always going to be in that body, and there really is no reason for your father's antiquated rule." Charlotte tucked a lock of hair behind Azrael's ear, urging, "Listen to your mother, sweetheart. I know what I'm talking about."

Azrael, looking uncomfortable, said, "I'm sure you do, Mom. I just really, _really_ don't want to hear about it. It leads to mental images that I would rather not have."

Looking amused and perhaps a little flattered, Charlotte said, "Are you sure you're imagining the right things? I'm sure Lucifer has some reading material you could borrow. And there are videos, too. Do you know about the internet?"

"Yes, I do," Azrael replied, deciding that trying to fight her blush was a lost cause. "On that note, I think I should get going." She hesitated, then said, "I am sorry about Dan, Mom."

"Well," Charlotte said, with forced lightness, "It's not the worst thing your father's done to me." She fussed with the jacket Azrael wore, adding, "Take this with you, sweetheart. It's chilly, and your brother hasn't seen fit to stop the rain."

"I thought Raziel was supposed to be doing _my_ job," Azrael complained. "How does he have time for this?"

As it happened, Azrael and Charlotte were both looking in the proper direction at just the right time; when the lightning flashed, they both saw Michael waiting down the road.

Azrael heard Charlotte's sharp intake of breath, saw the look of longing on her face, and hoped desperately that her brother would be civil.

The exasperated look Michael sent skyward as he approached was not encouraging.

"Brother," Azrael greeted him as he reached them, a warning in her voice.

"Azrael," Michael acknowledged, adding coolly after a moment, "Mother."

"Oh, son, I've missed you," Charlotte breathed. She stepped closer to Michael and reached for him, her hand faltering as he stiffened.

"Michael," Azrael hissed. "Filial piety."

"I've come to take you back," Michael told Azrael bluntly, ignoring both her rebuke and his mother's dismay. "I was giving you time to talk, as I didn't want a repeat of last time, but apparently our brother up there wants to play games."

Charlotte's hand sought Azrael instead, and the girl allowed herself to be drawn closer to her mother. After the first gut-punch of surprise, she felt… she wasn't sure what she felt, as if she were wrapped in blankets and the emotions couldn't escape.

"Michael," Azrael began, her tone hinting at her request for more time, but her brother wouldn't let her finish.

"You have got to be kidding me," he spat. "What is it this time? I let you tell our mother about the human. Don't you want to go home, Azrael?" When she didn't immediately reply, Michael turned to leave, obviously ready to put some distance between himself and his family.

"Michael." Charlotte's tone was sharp, a command.

He stopped in his tracks, ingrained by millenia of obedience, however long in the past.

"Give your sister a moment," Charlotte instructed him, and Michael returned, though reluctantly.

Charlotte cupped Azrael's cheek gently with one hand. Her blue eyes glistening, the woman said softly, "You can't give up this chance, sweetheart. Your father will restore you. You'll be free of that body."

Azrael caught a flicker of memory: Trixie saying, _I like your body,_ and she almost smiled. Despite its shortcomings, she had found some affection for her current form, though it would never be truly hers. She took a deep breath, willing herself to focus.

Azrael nodded. "I'm sorry, Mom. For… a lot of things." She stepped away from her mother and approached Michael. "I need time," she informed him, her voice resolute.

"No," Michael replied flatly. "No way." Then he looked up, his focus turning inward. "Our father gives you one day," he said finally, his manner reluctant. "This time tomorrow, be ready, Azrael."

Azrael exhaled a soft relieved breath. Then she countered, unable to resist, "Three days? For the symbolism?" She knew better that to suggest forty days and forty nights, despite the rain, but maybe this smaller number would be acceptable.

Michael shook his head, clearly annoyed. "One day," he repeated, with emphasis. "That's more than I'd give you, but our father is apparently feeling generous."

"One day," Azrael echoed quietly. "Thank you."

Charlotte stepped closer to her son, and Azrael sighed, knowing how the interaction was likely to go.

"Michael, please," Charlotte breathed.

Michael turned away, muttering, "I have to go. Azrael, be sure you're ready tomorrow." And he took to the air, not bothering to hide his passage.

Azrael stepped to Charlotte's side and rested a hand on her mother's arm, the motion tentative. "Don't let him get to you, Mom," she urged. "He's a jerk."

"He's still your brother," Charlotte replied, looking in the direction Michael had taken.

"Well, whose fault is that?" Azrael teased gently, eliciting a short, humorless laugh from Charlotte. "Look, I… I need to go; I have a lot to do before I leave. Will you be okay?"

Charlotte smiled. "Of course, sweetheart. Stop by before you leave, if you can."

Azrael leaned lightly against her mother for a moment. "If I can," she agreed. "I'll try."

Charlotte drew her daughter close. "And if you don't get a chance…" She gaze Azrael a long look, weighing her words, then finally said, "Be careful up there."

"I will," Azrael agreed. She reluctantly stepped away from her mother, then slipped into the shadows before taking to the air.

Charlotte stepped out from under the awning to watch her daughter's flight. The rain had slowed, but was still enough to dampen her face. Charlotte couldn't find it in herself to care, and stayed outside long after Azrael was out of sight. She looked to the sky, listening, but she heard nothing but the rain.

* * *

Azrael came to a landing on Lucifer's balcony, by now completely soaked. "Thanks, brother," she muttered, already planning what she would say to Raziel the next time she saw him… which would likely be the next day. Azrael's throat tightened and tension gripped her guts. She tipped her head back, letting the rain fall directly on her face; strangely enough, it seemed to help.

"What are you doing out there?" Lucifer, dressed but for his jacket, regarded her with puzzlement from just inside the penthouse. "You look like a drowned cat."

Azrael straightened, winking her nose at her brother. "Thank you," she replied. She arched her wings over her head to keep off the rain, then gave it up as a lost cause and let them fall. "I came to see you. But you look like you're going somewhere? I can be quick."

Lucifer shook his head. "Just downstairs," he replied breezily. "Thought I'd show myself, maybe play a few songs, see what happens from there. Friday night, you know. But that can wait; it's early yet." He gestured for Azrael to come inside, then amended, "Wait, let me get a towel."

"Make it two," Azrael suggested.

"Right," Lucifer agreed. He disappeared down the hall, returning quickly with an armload of towels. "Come in," he said, offering the topmost towel. "Why didn't you just come up the back way?"

Azrael tucked away her wings and stepped just inside the penthouse, then briskly applied the towel to her hair. "I wanted to fly." The flight in the rain had cleared her head somewhat, though the misery of damp clothing was rapidly making her regret her decision to remain outside.

"In this weather? Well, you did hit your head not all that long ago." Lucifer grinned at Azrael's exasperated huff.

Azrael peered at Lucifer through the curtain of her hair. "Did Mazikeen get in touch?" She returned her attention to her drying efforts, the better to avoid eye contact.

"About Daniel? Yes." Lucifer's tone was rather amused, and Azrael risked a look at him. "He and the Detective have hashed things out, apparently, and Daniel has left, likely to do some serious drinking. Oh, don't worry," he added easily, seeing Azrael's concerned look. "Maze sent Amenadiel after him. She also said you went to confess your sins to Mum, but you appear to be in one piece, so the punishment must not have been too awful."

Azrael shook her head. "She blamed Dad," she replied, trying not to feel guilty about that. Her parents' relationship was irredeemable, of course, but some small part of her still wished for something different.

"Well, that's appropriate," Lucifer interjected.

"She was nice, actually," Azrael said, finger-combing her hair. "And of course the conversation turned to… you know."

"Yes, sex," Lucifer said, with a hint of amused impatience. "It's not a difficult word, little sister: just three letters. I've seen you say much more challenging ones. But things generally do come round to sex, with Mum." Azrael eyed him, and he amended quickly, "Not sex _with_ Mum. That's…" He shuddered.

"I know what you meant." Azrael set aside the first towel and reached for another, grimacing as she added, "She all but told me to watch porn on the internet."

Looking amused, Lucifer said, "Well, there's a time and place for everything, I suppose." His expression brightening, he asked, "Have you seen Hot Tub High School? It's not porn, but it certainly has its redeeming qualities."

"Lucifer, _no_ ," Azrael protested. "Isn't that the one where Chloe showed her breasts?"

With a bright grin, Lucifer replied, "Those would be the redeeming qualities I mentioned. It certainly isn't the writing."

Azrael shook her head. "I haven't seen it, and before you ask, I don't want to. It would be too weird."

"Your loss," Lucifer said agreeably.

"So," Azrael said, trying to steer the conversation back to where she didn't actually want it to go. "After the whole porn thing - or probably during, now that I think about it - Michael showed up."

His expression gone serious, Lucifer said, a note of irony in his voice, "I'm sure that went well, Michael and Mum."

Azrael nodded. "He was awful, of course." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Michael came to take me back to the Silver City." Lucifer stared at her, shocked, and she added, "Whatever Dad wanted me to do, I guess it's done."

"He wanted Dan to know," Lucifer concluded, and Azrael nodded.

"I'm not sure if it was because of Dan and Mom or what, but, yeah," Azrael agreed. "Considering the timing, that had to be it."

A darkly suspicious look crossed Lucifer's face, but then he turned his gaze on his sister. "But you're here," he said, with a small, puzzled frown. "You didn't leave."

Azrael smiled. "I seem to recall promising you that I'd tell you before I left."

Lucifer stepped forward, checked himself briefly at the sight of the soggy mess that was his sister, and then leaned down to pull her close. "You promised, but I never thought…"

"What, you thought I'd just take off?" Azrael leaned against her brother, stiff for a moment and then relaxing into his embrace when he made no complaints about his clothing. "Brother, I _promised_."

"I…" Lucifer didn't finish.

Azrael nodded, with an understanding sigh. "There have been a lot of broken promises."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed. He eased away from Azrael. "Well, now we're both a bit damp. Lovely. I'll find you something to change into and we can toss your clothes into the dryer. I do know how it works," he added, jesting.

Azrael did not let Lucifer deflect, but looked up, meeting his eyes directly. "I said I'd do better," she said firmly. "And I will." She held his gaze and smiled when he smiled.

"Thank you," Lucifer said, his voice husky.

"You're welcome."

"Do you want some dry clothes now?" he added lightly.

" _So_ much."

Lucifer smiled. "Can you manage not to drip through my entire apartment?" he queried, turning to lead the way to his bedroom.

"Yeah, no promises," Azrael replied, trailing behind him. "But I have gained some impressive cleaning skills during my time here, so I'll take care of any drips."

Lucifer chuckled, and handed his sister some clothing; she ducked into his bathroom and emerged after a few minutes looking pleased to be relatively dry. She draped her mother's jacket over the back of a chair and took a moment to toss her clothing in the dryer, perhaps preferring her own laundry skills, then rejoined her brother by the bar. He had already poured a drink, and gave Azrael a look of inquiry.

"Just one, thanks." Azrael took the drink and sat next to her brother, amused to note that he had changed out of his damp clothing.

"Best take your wings out," Lucifer advised. "They'll dry more quickly, especially if you shake them out on the balcony. The rain stopped."

Azrael chuckled, shaking her head. "Of course it stopped. Thanks, Raziel. Sure, I'll be right back." She stepped onto the balcony and released her wings, giving them several vigorous flaps to shake off the worst of the water, then returned to her seat, holding her wings up to keep them from trailing on the ground.

"So this rainstorm is courtesy of our brother?" Lucifer queried. "Was he just being a wanker, or was there a point to it?"

Azrael shrugged. "A little of both, I think. You know how he gets. Thinks he's smarter than he is, wants to show off. He _is_ good with weather, though."

Lucifer nodded. "So how is it that you're still here?" he queried, studying his drink. "I would have thought dear old Dad would have hauled you back."

"I told Michael I needed more time," Azrael explained. "He wanted to say no, but I guess Dad told him to give me a day. Same time tomorrow, I'm to leave." Her fingers tightened on her glass, but she did not drink.

Lucifer was silent for a long moment, looking sidelong at Azrael. "Back to the Silver City and the job?" Azrael nodded, and he offered, "Would have thought you'd be happier, as much as you've wanted to go back."

Azrael considered her drink, then nodded. "Yeah. Well, I would have thought that, too." She drained half her drink, then said, "I like my job."

Lucifer seaside his own drink in favor of watching Azrael. "That wasn't very convincing."

"No, I do." Azrael sounded sincere, but thoughtful. "Getting the souls where they should be is worthwhile, and I like having something I do well. It just takes a lot of time. He sent me here with nothing to do but this task… tasks. He gave me all this spare time. I like my job," she repeated, fumbling a little as she tried to express herself. "But it's demanding. There are so many more humans than there used to be. I'm not… I've gotten used to… to living here." Though her posture was still ramrod-straight, her wings drooped, giving her away.

"You're going to miss being here," Lucifer said, restlessness propelling him to his feet.

"Yes," Azrael agreed. "I'm going to miss the time to play piano, and to read and bake, and… Luci, the people. The reason I decided to tell Dan was that Trixie was looking at me like she thought I could fix everything, and I couldn't let her down. She was _sure_ that telling Dan would make him see that I'm not just some strange kid, someone he doesn't want around his daughter. Well, he saw." A short, bitter laugh escaped her.

Lucifer stepped closer to the balcony, just near enough that he could see the sky. Though the rain had stopped, the clouds obscured the stars. "And now dear old Dad is taking you away from her."

Azrael looked over at her brother. "We still talking about Trixie?"

Lucifer didn't turn from his contemplation of the sky. "Who else?"

Azrael shook her head, but didn't argue. If that was how he wanted it, she wouldn't push the issue. Not overtly, at least; she knew how well that would go. She drained the last of her drink and set down the glass. With Lucifer facing away from her, she allowed herself to slump, resting her forehead in her cupped hand. "She believed in me," she said, her voice quiet, but distinct. "She let herself get close, and now Dad's taking me away from her. What a lovely reward for her faith."

"Typical Dad," Lucifer muttered. "He has to interfere. He can't just leave us… her alone." He stepped to the balcony and lit a cigarette, after a few tries.

Azrael got to her feet and moved to stand next to her brother, her wings still drooping. She told herself that it was because of the extra weight from the water, but she knew even as she thought it that she was lying to herself. "I'm going to miss her," she admitted, her words quiet. "I'm going to miss all of them." She inhaled a shaky breath. "I'm going to miss you, Luci. Even when I first got here and was scared and miserable, it wasn't so bad, because you were here."

Lucifer took a deep drag from his cigarette, then exhaled a long stream of smoke. "You could stay," he offered, not looking at his sister.

Azrael reached toward her brother, then cut off the movement, uncertain of her reception. "You know I can't," she replied. "I'm sorry. I… I actually wish I could, but the only way I'll be restored to myself is to go to the Silver City and face him." Her insides roiled at the thought of having to see her father; in the past, she had able to fly under the radar, but she was certain that would be impossible, all things considered.

Lucifer exhaled a soft sigh. He knew that would be the answer, and really couldn't expect anything else. "Well, then what?" He queried, stubbing out the cigarette in a short, vicious movement. "Back to the grind, transporting souls for the old man?" Azrael didn't answer, and Lucifer added, "What if you just told Dad you weren't going to do it any more?"

Azrael took a moment to answer, her silence thoughtful. "I… don't know. I've been the Angel of Death so long, I don't know if I could figure out how to be anyone else."

Lucifer turned and regarded her steadily, his dark eyes fixed on hers. "You've managed pretty well down here."

Azrael was the one to look away first. "If he wants me to do it, I don't really have a lot of choice in the matter." She hesitated, then added, "Luci, I like my job."

"Azrael." It took a moment, but she met his gaze once more. Lucifer continued quietly, "You have a night and a day down here. You might take some of that time to think about what _you_ want."

"What good will that do me?" Azrael queried, her voice quiet and a little bitter. "I'm not you, Luci. I can't… I mean, small rebellions, yes, but I can't say to our father, I _will not_ obey."

"Do you want your job back?" Lucifer persisted. "Not because it's all you've known for millenia, not because it's a worthy task, not because you're good at it, not because somebody has to do it. Do _you_ want to do it?"

Azrael's wings flared, and then she pulled them close to her body once more in an obviously intentional move, her expression frustrated and shading toward angry. "I don't know, okay?" She glanced toward the penthouse and her clothing. "I have to go," she said, her words clipped. "I have too much to do. I have to clear my stuff out of Ella's place, and return some books to the library, and I need to let people know I'm leaving… How am I going to tell Trixie?"

Lucifer caught at her arm before she could go. "None of which is getting done tonight," he replied gently. "Don't leave just because the conversation is getting difficult." Azrael stared at him and he added, his tone a little defensive, "I don't just play on my phone when I see Doctor Linda."

Azrael laughed despite herself. "That's good, Luci. I'm glad." Her smile fading, she said, "That's what we tend to do, though. Michael took off instead of talking to Mom, and neither one of us has a particularly good record for sticking around when things get tough. And I haven't actually been in touch with Amenadiel since the night of the Christmas pageant; we've been avoiding each other." Lucifer inclined his head in rueful acknowledgment of her point, and Azrael added, "I just don't want to argue with you. Not tonight. Okay? Can we not?"

Lucifer, remembering his small sister hiding from their parents' argument, nodded. "You never were one for conflict." He regarded Azrael now, small and damp and honestly looking a little miserable, and suggested, "Stay here tonight." Seeing Azrael's incipient protest, he added, "No, it's fine. You've finished whatever dear old Dad wants you to do, and any manipulation of my life has already been accomplished." He waited for Azrael to nod, then said, "Think about what I said. We don't have to talk about it or deal with all those messy feelings, but just think about it, all right?"

Azrael took a deep, rather shaky breath, then nodded. "All right." She managed a smile. "Thank you, brother. I'm glad to be here."

"Well, we can't have your last night on Earth be spent on a couch, can we?" Lucifer queried lightly.

"Ella's couch isn't so bad," Azrael observed, with another, stronger smile. "I should let her know I'm staying here," she added. "I took off in kind of a hurry when Trixie said it was an emergency." She hesitated, then said, "I… I don't think I can tell her over the phone that I'm leaving tomorrow. Luci, how am I going to do this? I don't want to just vanish from people's lives, but there are so many of them."

Lucifer poured himself another drink and lifted the lowball glass, studying the amber liquid thoughtfully. "Right," he said, drawing his sister's attention. "I can call Miss Lopez and let her know the situation, if you like."

"Would you?" Azrael replied, a flicker of relief crossing her face. Lucifer nodded, and she said, "Thanks, Luci. I really appreciate that. I… I think I might go get a shower, if that's okay."

Puzzled, Lucifer replied, "You just got dry - well, mostly dry."

Azrael looked a little sheepish. "Brother, there's a vast difference between flying in a rainstorm and enjoying your shower. I'm very grateful to Ella, but her place has lousy water pressure." After a moment's hesitation, she added, "And I don't want to hear your conversation."

"Avoiding difficult things," Lucifer suggested, and Azrael nodded, not bothering to deny it. "Well, at least you're staying true to form. Go on, little sister," he absolved. "I'll take care of it. I can do that much for you."

"Thanks, Luci." Azrael peered silently up at her brother, then leaned in to hug him tightly.

"Yes, yes," Lucifer murmured, though he curled an arm around the girl. "I'll miss you, too."

They stood there for a long moment, then Azrael stepped away and into the penthouse, casting a smile over her shoulder.

Lucifer looked after Azrael as she disappeared down the hallway. A few drops of rain fell, and he shook his head, casting a warning gaze skyward. "Don't start, Raziel."

The rain stopped.

Lucifer lit another cigarette, then pulled out his phone and chose Ella's number from his contacts. "Miss Lopez," he greeted. "Yes, she's here. Listen, I have something to tell you."

* * *

 **Author's note: There's less editing than usual on this one, as I wanted to get it out before the episode tonight, so please be gentle. :) Happy season 3 to those who see it tonight!**


	55. Chapter 55

Something was wrong.

Azrael opened her eyes and, after that initial jolt of recalling that she was returning to the Silver City that evening, realized that something was distinctly off with her wings. They felt stiff and ungainly and just… strange.

She'd slept with her wings out, something she hadn't done at Ella's apartment due to lack of space. She and Lucifer had stayed up far later than her body could easily tolerate, talking until they had said everything that could be said and then not talking any more but just being together.

Azrael wasn't entirely sure how she had gotten to this room, the one that had been hers when she lived in the penthouse; her last memory of the night before was of struggling to keep her eyes open as her brother looked on in amusement. While she had kept to her one drink limit for once, Lucifer had imbibed enough for both of them and then some; Azrael had restrained herself because she'd known that she would need all her faculties for the next day. Despite the lack of alcohol, she still felt stupid and tired, likely due to the late night.

Trying to summon alertness, Azrael arched one wing so she could see it, the motion taking a little more effort than it should have.

Pink. Her wing was _pink_. She twitched the other wing forward and, yes, it was pink as well.

Her wings had been coated with pink glitter. Azrael sat up and realized that glitter also covered the bed, outlining her wings like Tinkerbell's murder scene. She ran a hand along one wing and while some of the glitter came off on her fingers, the majority of it remained on her feathers.

Azrael flopped back onto the bed with a groan. "I do not have time for this," she said through clenched teeth. Worse, she wasn't sure she could fly, not with her wings as they were. And while she was certain that at least some of siblings were watching from above and cackling at her misfortune, and that Gabriel in particular would never let her forget about it, she absolutely could not show her face in the Silver City with her wings like that. The Angel of Death did not have _pink wings_.

Azrael realized that she was thinking of herself as her job once more, and wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that. It was familiar, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. She had, perhaps, gotten a little too familiar with her job, with human lives ending. Was that better than the alternative? She really wasn't sure.

Azrael pushed aside those thoughts and reached for her phone, choosing the appropriate number from her contacts.

"You're up! I thought you were going to sleep forever." Trixie's voice became muffled, perhaps as she turned away from the phone. "Maze, she's up!"

"Trixie, where are you?" Azrael queried, her voice carefully neutral. She was unsurprised to learn that the demon was involved; of course she was. Trixie would have needed assistance, and who better to torment an angel than a demon? While she doubted that Trixie's aim was torment, she had no such thoughts about Maze.

"In the kitchen," Trixie replied, and Azrael realized that she could also hear the girl's voice echoing from the hallway as well as over the phone. "Come have breakfast. Well, it's closer to lunchtime, but it's breakfast food. Don't worry; Maze didn't make it."

"I'll be right there."

Azrael tucked her wings away, changed back into the previous day's clothing, and pulled her hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She could still _feel_ the glitter, even with her wings disappeared; it made her back itch in that impossible-to-reach spot between her shoulder blades. She found herself rolling her shoulders in an attempt to be rid of the feeling as she strode down the hallway and into the kitchen.

The door had barely swung closed behind her before Trixie barreled into her, knocking her back a step. Trixie locked her arms around Azrael's waist and burrowed her head against the angel's chest.

"What?" Azrael said, reflexively catching the smaller girl. She looked to find Maze regarding her, unsmiling. Then Trixie lifted her head to reveal red-rimmed eyes, and Azrael's irritation faded. "Hey, it's okay." She brushed Trixie's hair away from her face, careful not to let her hand catch on the pink streaks in the girl's dark locks.

"But you're leaving," Trixie protested. Clearly, that counted as Not Okay in her book.

Azrael took a deep breath, hugging the smaller girl closer. "Yeah," she agreed. "I am." She cast a look of appeal to Maze, but the demon plucked a double-chocolate donut from the box on the kitchen island and took a deliberate bite of it, making it clear that Azrael was on her own. "My father wants me to go back," she said, the explanation sounding inadequate even to herself.

Trixie took a short, hiccupping breath, easing back a little but reaching for Azrael's hand. "Sometimes I don't do what my dad says," she confided. "Like when he wants me to brush my teeth, I go into the bathroom and let the water run on my toothbrush, but I don't really brush my teeth." Trixie gave the angel a conspiratorial grin, adding, "He doesn't get the right toothpaste; his is too minty. Mommy gets the bubblegum kind."

Azrael caught the edge of Maze's look: eyes widened meaningfully, brows at a sarcastic tilt. Her intent was clear: _See? Disobedience! Even the kid gets it._

Azrael cleared her throat. "Well. This goes a little beyond tooth-brushing, I'm afraid. I really do have to listen to my father."

Trixie pondered Azrael's words, then asked, "Will the bears come get you if you don't?"

"What? No." Azrael regarded the smaller girl in amused puzzlement. "Probably just my brother Michael. Honestly, I'd rather bears at this point. Michael was kind of a jerk the last time I saw him." That elicited an amused noise from Maze, though when Azrael sent a glance her way, the demon was stone-faced. She led Trixie to the table, taking a glazed donut from the box as she went. "Do you mean specific bears, or is it just bears in general?"

Trixie grabbed a pink-frosted, rainbow-sprinkled donut. "I was at Bethany's house last week and she had a Bible in her room," she explained, before pausing to take a bite of her donut. "Mm, yummy. I knew it was your dad's book," she continued, "so I asked if I could see it, and she told me a story about how bears attacked these kids who made fun of a bald guy."

"Elisha," Azrael murmured, shaking her head. "All right, not everything in the Bible is from my dad, and the bear thing was _really_ exaggerated, okay? He doesn't do stuff like that any more." Maze snorted in derision, and Azrael turned to regard the demon. Knowing that she was making a mistake even as she spoke, that taking her feelings out on Maze was never a good idea, she asked too-sweetly, "Would you like to participate in the conversation with actual words, Mazikeen? Or is that just a little too much for you?"

Maze started forward, one hand disappearing from view, but then she saw Trixie and hesitated, instead giving the angel a look that made it perfectly clear that only the little human's presence kept her from knocking Azrael on her ass.

Azrael looked away from the demon's challenging gaze after a moment, though part of her would have welcomed a sparring session; when she and Maze trained, she had no room in her brain for anything but the moment, which would have been a nice change from the current turmoil of her mind. She would have relished a distraction from her worry over her upcoming return to the Silver City.

"Guys," Trixie protested, drawing Azrael's attention. "Don't fight."

"We're not fighting," Azrael reassured, before taking a bite of her donut.

"Not yet," Maze agreed, with a smirk. "You'll know when we're fighting, little human."

Azrael couldn't help but smile at Maze's response. She patted Trixie's arm, then got up to get some coffee, certain that caffeine could only help her mood. It occurred to her to wonder who had made the coffee, though the question she asked was, "Where's Lucifer?" She turned in time to see the look Trixie and Maze exchanged, but she couldn't interpret it.

"He's busy," Trixie replied, trying to keep a serious face but not entirely managing it.

Maze added, unconcerned, "Something came up at Lux. He said we should keep you occupied."

"Is that why my wings are pink and sparkly?" Azrael queried. She gave Trixie a look that requested an explanation, but the girl only giggled.

"Aren't they pretty?" Trixie asked, clearly delighted.

Azrael took a breath to reply, only to pause as she felt the sharp application of Maze's elbow to her ribs, though the demon had been several feet away a moment before.

Maze leaned casually against the counter next to Azrael. "Cream and sugar?" she asked, though no coffee additives were present.

Azrael gave Maze an annoyed look, casually lowering a hand to rub at her newest bruise, but she did modify her words to, "Pretty isn't even the word."

Beaming, Trixie asked, "Can I see them? It was kind of dark in your room."

"Ah, that would explain the glitter all over my sheets," Azrael teased, and Trixie grinned.

"It was kind of messy," Trixie admitted. "I got some on my hands," she added, displaying several sparkly fingers.

Maze added, with a wicked smile, "You slept through the whole thing, TD. We could have done _anything_."

Azrael shook her head, not especially reassured by this comment from Maze. "So, wings," she said to Trixie. "Let's go on the balcony, assuming it's not raining again. They'll be more sparkly in the sun."

Trixie bounced to her feet. "No, it's sunny," she assured Azrael. "Come on," she urged, already halfway to the balcony.

Azrael grabbed her donut before starting after Trixie, calling over her shoulder, "Trixie being upset isn't my fault, Mazikeen."

"Yeah, it is."

But the demon followed nonetheless.

"Now," Azrael said to Trixie, who had perched on a chair on the balcony. "While I appreciate that you wanted to make my wings pretty, this is the sort of thing you should have asked before doing, okay?"

Trixie considered that, then asked, "Would you have said yes?" Azrael hesitated, and Trixie nodded. "That's what I thought. Lucifer said that if you really, really want to do something, you should do it. And Maze helped."

"How nice of her," Azrael muttered. More seriously, she added, "I believe that Lucifer said that, but doing something to someone while they're sleeping, that's not okay."

Trixie nodded, looking contrite. "Sorry, Rae."

Maze, leaning against the doorway, smirked. She obviously had her own opinions on acceptable things to do to sleeping people. "Just show her the wings, Fun Size."

Azrael flicked a quick, irritated look at Maze, but loosed her wings nonetheless. She had to admit that the combination of sunlight and glitter was not entirely unattractive, and Trixie's delighted squeal brought a smile to Azrael's face.

"Rae, they're so pretty!" Trixie hopped down from the chair to get a closer look and Azrael arched her wings, preening despite herself.

"What did you use to make them glittery?" Azrael asked.

"In case you want to do it again?" Trixie grinned over at Maze, then added, "It was a spray we got at Walgreens. Don't worry," she added, "It comes out in the shower."

Azrael nodded, relieved. It could have been much worse, after all. "I'm going to have to go get a shower pretty soon, then. I've got a lot to do today."

Trixie pleaded, "Just a few more minutes? Besides, Lucifer took care of some of your stuff already. He said."

Azrael nodded. "Just a few minutes." She leaned against the balcony wall, frowning thoughtfully at the mention of her brother. "Is everything okay at Lux? He's been gone a while."

"It hasn't been that long," Maze replied, her tone not inviting further questions on the subject.

Trixie looked between the angel and the demon and sighed. "I'm gonna get another donut. I'll be right back."

Looking after the girl, Azrael asked Maze, with a gesture toward her wings, "Was this really necessary?"

Maze shrugged. "Necessary? Probably not. But it got the little human to stop crying, so it was worth it. You took one for the team, TD."

Azrael gave Maze a skeptical look, certain that the demon was not motivated solely by altruism, even as she felt guilt twist somewhere south of her collarbone. "My feathers just dried from that rainstorm last night," she complained.

Unsympathetic, the demon replied, "Let the kid go after them with a blow dryer. She'll love it."

Azrael pursed her lips as she considered the suggestion. "That's… actually a good idea. Thank you, Mazikeen."

"I know."

Azrael settled to a seat and took a bite of her donut. "Might want to mention Bethany and her stories to Chloe," she suggested.

Maze nodded. "On it. But Elisha and the bears, that's not the weirdest thing in that book."

Looking amused, Azrael replied, "It was probably a children's Bible, though. I'm sure they cut out the inappropriate stuff. I mean, Song of Solomon has its nice parts, but it's not the best for kids."

Maze smirked. "Ezekiel 23:20."

Brows lifting sharply, Azrael said, "I didn't realize you read the Bible."

"No, I don't," Maze replied, with a wry look for the thought. "But Lucifer liked that part. He's quoted it a couple of times."

"I'll just bet he has." Azrael was quiet for a moment, then looked after Trixie with a worried frown. "Was she really that upset?"

The demon gave Azrael a hard look. "She likes you, so, yeah. She was that upset. I mean, the kid doesn't know if she'll ever see you again."

"She doesn't need to worry," Azrael protested. "I mean, I'll come see her when…" Her voice trailed off, full of uncertainty.

"Yeah," the demon said flatly. "You have no idea what's going to happen up there. So you'd better not promise anything you can't deliver." Azrael didn't respond, and Maze persisted, "You can't just show up when you feel like it, the way you did with Lucifer."

"That's not how it was," Azrael snapped, her voice defensive. "I came when I could. The job -"

"It's always the job," Maze replied scornfully. "Look, Lucifer understood how it was, but Trixie doesn't. And if you lose track of time, which we both know you'll do, what then? She's a little kid, but if you take off for years at a time…"

Azrael fumbled to put her half-eaten donut on the small table. "I know. I…" She took a breath. "I'll see what happens in the Silver City. Take it from there. Maybe my father…" She shook her head, not looking particularly optimistic.

Maze exhaled a huff of exasperation. "I know you'd never cross Daddy on your own behalf, but maybe think about everybody down here. Maybe think about Trixie."

"I _am_ thinking about Trixie," Azrael snapped. "What, you want me to go back to the Silver City and say, 'Hey, Dad thanks for my body. Now I'm going to bail on my job. Bye!' And that's assuming I want to bail on my job, which I don't. I like my job."

"Whatever, Fun Size," Maze replied, unconvinced by Azrael's tone. Shaking her head, she added, "I would have a lot more to say to your father, and I wouldn't be starting with a thank-you."

"You're not the one who has to face him," Azrael said, her words clipped.

"Yeah, and he's lucky."

Azrael got to her feet. "Are you kidding me, Mazikeen?" she demanded incredulously.

Maze folded her arms across her chest and regarded Azrael with a challenge in her eyes, obviously not kidding.

As she usually did, Azrael looked away first. "I actually believe you," she said, her voice quiet and holding a hint of wonder.

Maze nodded, looking smug. "So when you go see Daddy, tell him you're going to do what you want."

"It's not that simple, Mazikeen," Azrael replied, frustrated. "My father has his plans, and questioning them doesn't really work out well."

Shaking her head, Maze asked, "When was the last time you tried? Before the thing with the bears, right? Maybe he's mellowed."

"Maybe he hasn't," Azrael replied flatly, trying not to think too hard about the possible repercussions of questioning her father.

Maze studied Azrael, then said, "You're wound tighter than usual today, Fun Size. Want to try to hit me?"

"It's a little disturbing that that was your solution," Azrael said, not bothering to deny that she was tense and not wanting to admit that trying to hit Maze would probably help. Still, she didn't approach the demon, instead stepping to the balcony wall and looking out over the city.

With a shrug, Maze replied, "Only solution you'd agree to, anyway. Suit yourself."

Azrael turned away from the view, asking, "Where's Lucifer?"

"What," Maze taunted. "Are your feelings hurt that he took off?"

Azrael wasn't about to admit to that, instead taking a long drink of her coffee.

"And I'll bet you're pissed off that we decorated your wings." Maze added, mood shifting to teasing amusement as she considered the pink, sparkly angel. "Come on, don't be mad. It's funny."

Azrael, catching sight of Trixie approaching, put one hand over her coffee mug, stepped closer to the demon, and flapped her wings hard, dislodging a wave of loose glitter onto Maze. "No," Azrael replied, not bothering to hide her smile. " _That's_ funny."

Trixie emerged with a donut in each hand; Azrael suspected, given the duration of the girl's absence, that more that two were missing from the box. "Oh, Maze, you look so pretty!" she enthused. "Now you guys match!"

Maze exhaled a short huff, a puff of glitter escaping her lips, and Trixie giggled. "My turn," she requested, presenting herself before Azrael. The angel grinned and flapped her wings again; while the gust of glitter was smaller, it was still enough to put a fine, sparkly layer over the girl. Trixie beamed in delight, announcing, "We all match, now."

"I look ridiculous," Maze muttered.

Trixie protested, "Aw, Maze!"

Azrael echoed, "Yeah, Maze!" The demon eyed her, and she appended, "-ikeen." She took up her discarded donut and got to her feet, trying to look more casual, less like she was fleeing. "I'm going to get a shower, since I'm not sure if I can fly with my wings like this, and then could you help me dry my wings, Trixie? That was Mazikeen's idea," she added, as Trixie nodded, delighted. "After that I need to deal with my stuff at Ella's," she added, pausing as Trixie shook her head.

"Ella's doing that," the little girl informed her. "She says to text her if there's anything you want, and she can take care of the library books."

"Oh." Azrael frowned just a bit, but said only, "That's nice of Ella." Most of her accumulated possessions, such as her clothing, wouldn't be necessary, but she could think of a few things that she wanted. She also wanted to bid the tech farewell, but she supposed she could do that when she went to pick up the items she wanted to take with her, like the drawings Trixie had made for her.

Trixie added brightly, "While you get a shower, Maze and I can sweep up the glitter. It's everywhere; I saw it when I went to the kitchen."

Azrael couldn't keep back a smile as she thought of Lucifer's likely reaction to a penthouse covered in pink glitter. "Thanks, Trixie. Thanks, Mazikeen." And then she did beat a hasty retreat.

* * *

Despite the shower, Azrael was reasonably certain she hadn't rid herself of all the glitter. Would she still be finding pink sparkles in her wings when she had been restored to her true form? She wasn't entirely sure how the change had been accomplished, and so didn't know if the glitter would remain, but she guessed that she would find out soon enough.

Trixie had, unsurprisingly, loved helping Azrael dry her wings. It had taken a little experimentation to figure out just how to make it work; at one point, Azrael had peered through her feathers to see Maze offering advice to the little girl on proper wing-handling technique.

"What?" the demon had said defensively, seeing Azrael's curious look. "Your brothers used to have wings. I get how they work."

"I didn't say anything," Azrael had replied, settling back to enjoy their tending. It took a while; though her wings weren't as large as her brothers' even when she was in her own body, and were even smaller in this form, they still had a lot of feathers.

She'd checked her phone a few times throughout the drying process, and while Ella had replied to her text about the disposition of her belongings, there had been nothing from Lucifer.

When Trixie (and Maze, not that the demon was likely to admit to her assistance) had finished, Azrael had to admit that her wings looked good. Not that they ever looked _bad_ , of course, but she appreciated the effort and attention, and told them so.

"You're welcome," Trixie replied, and though Maze didn't say anything, she smiled.

Trixie came around to sit in the chair with Azrael, settling lightly against her. "I'm going to miss you," she said, her voice quivering. She added earnestly, "And not just 'cause you have wings. I liked you before I knew about your wings."

"I know you did," Azrael replied, swallowing hard against the sudden ache in her throat. She hugged Trixie close, adding softly, "I'm going to miss you, too." One wing curled around the little girl, and Trixie hid her face against Azrael's chest.

"Hey," Maze said, her voice as gentle as it ever got. "Not to interrupt your moment, but Lucifer just texted. He wants us to come down to Lux."

Azrael swiped at her eyes with the back of one hand before turning her attention to Maze. "Give us a minute?"

Maze shrugged, but Trixie took a deep breath before pulling away from Azrael, ducking under her wing and moving to the demon's side. "It's okay," Trixie said, trying to smile despite her tears. "Let's go."

Azrael didn't move. "Mazikeen, why?" she protested. "We don't have to go right now just because Lucifer texted."

Maze put an arm around Trixie, her voice exasperated as she replied, "Just do it, okay? Your brother wants us downstairs, so let's go downstairs."

"It's okay," Trixie reiterated. "But can I have a Cosmo?"

"Sure, kid," Maze replied, just as Azrael suggested, "Maybe a Shirley Temple instead."

Azrael got to her feet and, after one last look at the city, followed Maze and Trixie to the elevator.


	56. Chapter 56

**Author's note: Thanks for your patience! This was tough to write, and life has been getting in the way. I hope to have the next chapter up on Sunday.**

 **I'm sure I got Dan's final response to Linda somewhere, but I can't recall where**

* * *

When they reached the top of the stairs, Trixie pulling Azrael, Maze lagging behind, the shouted "Surprise!" startled Azrael to a dead stop.

"Are you surprised?" Trixie tugged at Azrael's hand, trying to generate some sort of response from the dumbstruck angel.

Azrael inhaled a deep breath, blinking hard. "I am," she replied. "Very much." She eyed the little girl, then, asking, "Is this why you and Maze did what you did earlier, with the spray glitter?" She looked at Maze over the little girl's head; the demon just smirked.

Trixie, demonstrating her utter mastery of the wide-eyed, innocent look, replied, "Lucifer _said_ to keep you busy…" Before Azrael could say anything else, the little girl pulled her hand away, encouraging, "Go say hi! Everybody's waiting."

It wasn't quite everybody, but somehow Lucifer had gathered most of the people Azrael wanted to tell goodbye. She made her way to the foot of the stairs and spent several minutes greeting the people who waited there before finally reaching Ella and Lucifer.

"How did you manage this?" Azrael asked. "It's great; thank you so much!"

"Well," Lucifer replied, looking pleased. "Miss Lopez did a lot of the leg work."

Ella pulled Azrael into a tight hug. "We couldn't let you go without a party, chickie," she added. "And nobody does a phone tree like church people."

Azrael tried not to cling to Ella, with limited success, though she finally eased out of the tech's embrace. "Thank you. For this and for everything." Lucifer slipped into the crowd, and Azrael added, with a brief, distracted look after her brother, "I couldn't have gotten through these last few weeks without you."

"Sure, you could have," Ella encouraged. "But I'm glad you came to stay with me. It was fun."

Azrael smiled fondly. "It was. Huh," she realized, with a faint frown, "I'm not going to find out how Buffy ends."

"Eh, it's not as good after season five." Ella studied Azrael for a moment, then asked, "Are you okay? I mean, you're going home and you're going to get your body back, right? Isn't that a good thing? Kind of… more important than a show that's been off the air for more than thirteen years."

Azrael nodded, glancing down at herself. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to be restored to myself, yeah. Hopefully. But Buffy is important, too," she added, with a quick smile.

"That's going to be a little weird," Ella observed. "Your new body. Well, old body, I guess. _Really_ old."

"Hey," Azrael objected, though she was clearly amused by Ella's lack of filter.

"I mean, I've only ever known you like this," Ella explained. "Are you tall?" Catching Azrael's puzzled look, she added, "Your brothers are pretty tall, except Josh."

"It doesn't -" Azrael began. She frowned thoughtfully, continuing, "I'm tall-ish, I guess, but it's not like it's a genetic thing. We don't work that way. I mean, Mom and Dad don't technically have bodies, so they can't… I mean, please, my parents _never_ …" Seeing Ella's fascinated expression, and not wanting to fumble over her words any longer, she said, "There's not really time to explain it. Maybe ask Amenadiel. He understands it better than I do anyway." And then _he_ could answer the awkward questions.

Ella nodded, looking thoughtful. "Maybe I'll catch him tonight."

"Wait, he's here?" Startled, Azrael scanned the crowd, looking for her eldest brother. "I though he was… I mean, we haven't spoken in a while."

"He didn't think you'd want him to come," Ella admitted. "But I told him, hey, you're her big bro! You have to come. And there he is."

"Well, thanks," Azrael said, though she did look a little nervous as she considered her brother. "I'll have to catch up with him later."

Seeing her expression, Ella said brightly, "Hey, you'll be fine. He's your brother!"

Azrael couldn't help but smile, asking, "You do know that we're talking about _my family_ , right?"

Laughing, Ella replied, "Okay, good point. But he seemed okay when I talked to him this morning. I think you'll survive."

Azrael smiled. "Thanks, Ella. I guess I'd better talk to him now, before I lose my nerve."

That was not to be, though, as small Michael ran directly into her legs. "Up, Rae!" he demanded, and Azrael obliged, scooping the little boy into her arms.

"You got away again?" Azrael queried, smiling at the boy's enthusiastic nod. Turning to Ella, she said, "I'm going to find his folks, but I'll catch you before I go."

"You'd better," Ella urged, smiling fondly. She looked after Azrael, then surveyed the party with a pleased nod. "Nice party, Ella," she murmured. "Good job."

* * *

Chloe paused next to the booth in which Lucifer sat watching the crowd. "Hey," she greeted. "This is great."

Lucifer pulled his gaze from his sister; Azrael was seated in another booth and chatting with several people from St. Brennan's and a few librarians, a baby in her lap. "Detective," he greeted, his smile warming his face. "Join me. Do you need a drink or anything?"

Chloe slid into the booth next to him. "I'm good, thanks. I just can't believe you pulled this together so quickly." She turned to survey the crowd and added, a note of sly teasing in her voice, "And I'm kind of shocked that you invited churchgoers _and_ children here."

Lucifer shook his head, with a quiet chuckle. "Not my usual thing, no. But it's for Rae. I can manage it this one time. As for everything happening in such a short time, Miss Lopez was instrumental, of course." Gaze flicking back to the party, where Trixie and a few of the children from St. Brennan's were involved in a game that appeared to involve a lot of noise, he asked, "Speaking of children, is your offspring all right?"

Chloe turned to look at Trixie as well, exhaling a soft, worried sigh. "Right at this exact moment, yeah. But in general, I don't know. I mean, she'll bounce back; kids are resilient. But this is going to be tough for her. She really loves Rae."

Lucifer nodded, with a small frown. "Maze said she was quite upset this morning."

"She was," Chloe confirmed. "It was pretty bad. I really hated having to tell her." Her lips curving a little, she asked, "Did Maze tell you what they did to Rae to keep her busy? Trixie texted me about it, but not until they were done, or I would have tried to stop them."

Lucifer reached for his phone, looking amused. "I have photographic proof," he said, extending the phone to show Chloe. "Rae was probably a little put out, but I wouldn't worry. I am a little concerned for the state of my flat, however. There's likely glitter everywhere."

Chloe couldn't help but laugh at the picture, or perhaps at the thought of glitter-bedecked floors. "I shouldn't be laughing at this," she murmured.

"Of course you should," Lucifer encouraged. "Pink wings on the Angel of Death: it's funny! She should look into making it permanent, I think. It's be good for her image."

"But doing it while she was asleep," Chloe persisted, her expression sobering.

"No worries, Detective," Lucifer reassured, tucking his phone away. "Maze wouldn't take it too far; not with your offspring there. And look: Rae's fine."

Chloe looked as directed, and Azrael did appear to be fine. Perhaps feeling Chloe's eyes on her, she glanced over and smiled, though she looked away to reply to a comment from Father Joe. Curious, Chloe asked, "What would Maze have done if she had been by herself?"

Lucifer pondered the question, and a slow smile crossed his face. "Best we don't think too hard about that one," he said, his eyes glinting with mirth. "Maze does have a wicked sense of humor, as well as a keen sense of vengeance, and she displeased on young Beatrice's behalf that Rae's leaving."

Chloe nodded in rueful acknowledgment of Maze's sense of humor, then observed, "I think Maze is going to miss Rae, though I'm not going to tell Maze that."

"Smart," Lucifer agreed, amused. "I think you're right, but she'd never admit it."

Chloe nodded, then asked gently, "So how are you feeling about Rae leaving? I don't think Maze is displeased just on Trixie's behalf."

Lucifer pulled his drink closer. "What, think Dr. Linda isn't therapist enough?" he quipped. "If you want to play doctor, Detective, I have an alternate specialty in mind: less talking, much more hands-on, shall we say?" He leered cheerfully, adding, "We can go upstairs any time you like… or there's a little nook back there." He nodded toward a dark corner of the club.

"I'm serious, Lucifer," Chloe protested, though her eyes flicked briefly to the indicated corner. She leaned forward, her body angling toward his.

Lucifer arched his brows meaningfully and mirrored Chloe's posture. In deft mimicry of her earnest tone, he replied, "So am I, Detective."

Chloe exhaled a huff of exasperation, but didn't say anything, instead keeping eye contact with Lucifer.

"Fine," he muttered, looking away. "I'll miss her, but it's not like I'm not used to having her disappear."

Chloe nodded, her expression sympathetic. "You really think she's going to stay away?"

Lucifer shrugged, glancing briefly at his sister. "It depends on what dear old Dad wants her to do," he replied, his voice touched with bitterness.

"You don't think he'll let her come back?" Chloe queried, tone disbelieving. She looked for Trixie and found that her daughter had joined the group in Azrael's booth. "Why would he do that? What reason could he possibly have?"

"I have long since given up trying to understand my father's motivations," Lucifer replied, his tone distant. Turning to Chloe, he added, a note of pained frustration in his voice, "But she's come so far while she's been here. She's thinking for herself more, instead of just doing what he wants. I…" He sighed, raking one hand through his hair and looking defeated. "He's just going to brainwash her again."

Chloe glanced upward with a frown and then covered Lucifer's hand with her own, the gesture almost defiant. Lucifer dropped his gaze to their hands, and then to Chloe's face, his manner uncertain.

"I'm here for you, Lucifer," Chloe said, her voice quiet but sincere. "Whatever you need. But maybe she'll surprise you."

For once, Lucifer didn't make the leap to the obvious sex joke, instead replying, his voice low, "Thank you, Detective."

* * *

Azrael took a deep breath and approached the figure at the bar, hitching small Sarah a little higher on her hip. She was not, she told herself firmly, using a baby as a human shield. But Sarah would cry if Azrael passed her off to someone else, and of course Azrael didn't want her to cry. So she definitely needed to be holding the baby for Sarah's sake, not her own.

"Brother," she offered tentatively, and Amenadiel turned, one hand sliding his drink out of sight.

"Hey, little sister." His smile was equally hesitant, and partly for the baby. "Who's this?"

Azrael jogged Sarah up and down, and the baby laughed in delight. "This is Sarah. She was Josh, in the play." She tried not to wince; she hadn't meant to bring up that night quite so soon.

Amenadiel nodded, letting Azrael's mention of the play pass without comment. "I thought she looked familiar. Hi, there, Sarah."

Perhaps it was the sound of her name, or maybe she was attracted by the rich resonance of Amenadiel's voice, but Sarah turned toward him, one small hand reaching for the angel's face.

"Huh, I think she likes you."

Amenadiel chuckled. "Don't sound so surprised." He offered Sarah a hand, and she promptly began to gnaw on one of Amenadiel's fingers.

"Careful; she's working on a tooth." Amenadiel didn't seem concerned by his new role as baby teething device, and Azrael continued, "I didn't mean to sound surprised, sorry." She cast her gaze about the room, and settled on a familiar figure. "How's Dan? Lucifer said Maze had you go talk to him last night."

Amenadiel finally looked away from the baby to consider Dan as well. "He'll be okay," he decided. "He had a lot of questions, and I don't think he would have been able to ask them of Maze or Luci, or even you." His gaze returned to his sister and, brows lifting, he asked, "You really had to tell him?"

"I think Dad wanted me to," Azrael replied, with a small shrug. "I'm glad you could help him, though." Hesitantly, she added, "Honestly, I'm a little surprised to see him here. He had to know Mom would come."

Amenadiel nodded. "He's worried about Trixie. She asked him to be here, and he wants to help."

"He's a good dad," Azrael observed, with gentle emphasis. Though Amenadiel's brows lifted at the implied comparison to their own father, he only nodded. Azrael added, her gaze shifting to her brother, "I have to admit that I'm a little surprised to see you here, too."

Amenadiel carefully dislodged his finger from Sarah's grip and wiped it on a cocktail napkin; Azrael offered her own finger as substitute, which the baby seemed to accept.

"Well, your friend Ella is really persistent," Amenadiel replied, with a quick smile. "Is she always so high energy?"

Azrael made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan. "Oh, you have no idea. Even first thing in the morning, before I've had my coffee, she's that high energy. But she's great. Really accepting. Um, and I may have suggested that she ask you about why we look the way we do. She was talking about genetics, and this really isn't the time to have that sort of conversation."

"So you said I should do it?" Amenadiel replied, with a rueful headshake.

"Do you think Lucifer would be a better choice?"

"Okay, good point," Amenadiel agreed, looking amused despite himself. "Ella asked if I wanted to go to church with her," he said thoughtfully. "I just might take her up on that."

Azrael smiled. "They're a good bunch of people at St. Brennan's. You'd like them." She hesitated, then added softly, "I'm sorry for what happened that night at the church, brother. I… it was a tough evening, and I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Amenadiel smiled ruefully. "I regretted not letting you out of that chair," he admitted, with a low chuckle. "Did you really turn Michael down that night, when he was going to take you home?"

Azrael nodded, wincing a little and freeing her hand from Sarah's mouth.

Amenadiel offered another cocktail napkin, which Azrael took with a murmur of thanks. She occupied herself with finger-cleaning and baby-distraction before saying, eyes anywhere but on her brother, "I know that's not the choice you would have made."

"Probably not," Amenadiel agreed. "But I can see why you did. You and Luci always were close. But I guess you're going back tonight."

Azrael nodded, meeting Amenadiel's gaze. "I… yes. I am."

Amenadiel gave her a level look. "You know Father is going to want to see you, right?"

Azrael tried to hide her nervous tremor, but was fairly certain that Amenadiel's keen eyes caught it despite her efforts. "I know."

Amenadiel got to his feet, and Azrael managed to stand her ground, though Amenadiel only rested a hand on the shoulder that Sarah wasn't clinging to. "Tell him the truth," Amenadiel advised, his dark eyes serious. "Don't hold anything back. He'll know if you do."

Azrael hesitated, then said softly, "He may not like everything I have to say."

"Say it anyway," Amenadiel replied, his voice blunt. "And then keep your head down; follow the rules and do as he bids you." Azrael didn't reply, and Amenadiel sighed. "Just don't do anything stupid, little sister." He gave her shoulder a quick squeeze, then took his drink and headed into the crowd.

"Amenadiel, wait!" Amenadiel turned, and Azrael offered tentatively, "I can talk to Dad about your… situation, if you like."

Amenadiel sighed. "He knows about my situation, Azrael."

"I know. I just…" Azrael stepped closer to Amenadiel, uncertain whether she was doing the right thing but knowing that she needed to do _something_. "Maybe it will help."

Amenadiel's expression softened. "All right, little sister," he allowed. "Maybe it will help."

Azrael smiled and, greatly daring, stepped close to give her brother a one-armed hug, carefully balancing Sarah with her other arm. Amenadiel, after a moment, hugged her in return. Azrael sighed and leaned against her brother, but then her attempt to step away was hindered by the fact that Sarah had entangled her small fingers around Amenadiel's necklace and was desperately trying to get to to her mouth.

"Ooh, no," Azrael protested. "Sorry, Amenadiel. I'll get it." It took her a while to dislodge Sarah's fingers, though Amenadiel seemed amused by the proceedings. "Sorry," Azrael reiterated. "I think I'd better find her folks."

Amenadiel nodded, then said quietly, "Be careful up there, little sister." Azrael nodded, with a smile, and Amenadiel set off once more, heading in Dan's direction.

Azrael looked after him. "Hey, is that a Cosmo?"

"Cosmos are yummy," was Amenadiel's only reply.

* * *

Azrael returned Sarah to Mary Grace and received hugs from the family in return; noting Sarah's rising crankiness, they opted to leave the party a little early.

"Now you come see us when you come back to visit your brother," Mary Grace said firmly, and Azrael nodded, unable to reply. After one final hug from small Michael, the family departed.

"They seem attached to you."

Azrael looked up at her mother and nodded, trying to smile.

"You're going to miss them," Charlotte ventured, and Azrael nodded again. "All these people, here for you," Charlotte said thoughtfully. "I was just chatting with that one, the one in black," she added. "He spoke well of you."

"Father Joe?" Azrael said, her brows lifting sharply. "You talked to him?" She turned to find the priest in the crowd.

"Father?" Charlotte echoed, her tone curious. "He did introduce himself that way. But why do you call him that?"

Gaze sharpening when she spotted the priest talking to Dan, Azrael replied, distracted, "It's a title, Mom. Everybody calls him that."

"Oh, he's a priest?" Charlotte asked, sounding intrigued. "Is he the kind that doesn't have sex?"

"Mom. Please." Azrael made a sound halfway between a sigh and a laugh. "You were not sent here to test Father Joe's vow of celibacy."

Charlotte drew Azrael close and murmured, "Spoilsport," her tone holding such a teasing note that Azrael couldn't help but laugh. "Besides," she added more briskly, though she still kept an arm around her daughter, "I wasn't sent here at all, sweetheart. I'm certainly not part of your father's plan."

Azrael took a quick breath, her expression growing thoughtful. While she didn't want to contradict her mother, she had been told so often that _everything_ to do with her family was part of her father's plan that it was hard to imagine otherwise. Even so, the thought that her mother was there to serve her father's purpose left her speechless.

"Azrael?" Charlotte prompted, feeling the tension in her daughter's body.

"Did you see that Dan is here?" Azrael queried abruptly. Charlotte made a noise of inquiry, and Azrael added, "You should talk to him."

Charlotte gave Azrael a shrewd glance, but went with the subject change nonetheless. "I really don't think that's a good idea," she replied dismissively. "Not right now."

Azrael looked dubious, but suggested, "Maybe try Amenadiel, then. He and Dan talked last night. He'd know how Dan is doing."

"I don't need to know how Dan is doing," Charlotte countered, though she looked for Amenadiel in the crowd. "I saw you with Amenadiel, before," she added, her tone fond. "I'm glad the two of you made up. You know how I hate it when you children are at odds."

"I'm glad, too," Azrael agreed. "I want to wrap up as many loose ends as possible, which is why you should talk to Amenadiel about Dan."

Charlotte regarded her daughter in honest confusion. "You want Daniel and me to have sex?"

Azrael protested, sotto voce, "Mom! You can't say that. There are so many church people here right now."

Charlotte surveyed the crowd. "Judging from the number of small humans here, church people have sex, too."

"Okay, point," Azrael conceded. "But they don't _talk_ about it." She shook her head, ignoring Charlotte's amusement at her embarrassment. "I don't really care what you and Dan do, as long as you're both into it I don't get a blow-by-blow." She winced at her own phrasing and added a firm, "No details!" as Charlotte's eyes lit up. Smiling a little, she said, "I just want you to be happy here, Mom."

Part of that, Azrael admitted privately to herself, was that contentment on her mother's part meant that the Goddess would be less likely to cause trouble. But her mother didn't need to know that.

Charlotte's eyes softened. "My sweet girl. All right, I'll talk to Amenadiel if it means that much to you. But don't leave without saying goodbye, okay?"

Azrael nodded. "Of course, Mom." She watched Charlotte's departure, then moved purposefully to join Dan and Father Joe.

The priest, spotting Azrael, called pleasantly, "Speak of the Devil; we were just talking about you. All good things, of course."

Smiling, Azrael pulled up a chair. "That's good to know," she replied, ignoring the sudden widening of Dan's eyes at the mention of the Devil. "I didn't realize that you two knew each other."

"Oh, we don't," Father Joe replied, with an easy smile. "But we have some mutual acquaintances, such as yourself. I was just telling Dan about the Christmas play; he said his daughter and his ex-wife were there."

Azrael nodded. "They were. They're good friends."

Father Joe said, "Speaking of friends, Jack asked me to tell you goodbye for him. He wanted to be here, but he had a family obligation."

"Thanks," Azrael replied, though she didn't entirely miss the awkwardness that would have been a farewell conversation with Jack. Things had been weird since the night of the Christmas play.

Another partygoer called for Father Joe, and he looked in that direction for before asking, "Could we say a prayer for your trip, in case I don't get a chance later?"

Azrael shot a quick look of inquiry to Dan, who nodded, though with some hesitancy. Azrael smiled. "That'd be great, Father Joe. Thanks."

The priest extended his hands. Azrael took one and Dan, after a moment, took both the priest's other hand and Azrael's free hand.

"Lord, we come together today to celebrate our friend Rae, who is returning to her home," Father Joe began. "We are grateful for her time here with us, and for the ways that she has enriched our lives. Let her journey home be easy; let God's angels watch over her and keep her safe."

Dan made an odd choking noise, and Azrael gave his hand a firm squeeze.

Father Joe, after a moment's pause, continued, "Let her find peace at home, but let her return to us soon if it is your will. Amen."

Azrael and Dan said their amens and let go of each other's hands. Father Joe kept hold of Azrael's hand, though he released Dan's. "We're going to miss you, Rae. I know God brought you to us, though I wish he could have let you stay a little longer."

Azrael, her voice a little husky, replied. "Me, too, Father Joe. Thanks."

"I'll pray for you." The priest smiled and, with a murmured farewell to the pair, left in search of the person who had called him.

"So." Dan shifted awkwardly in his seat, clearly uncomfortable. "Does that stuff really work?"

"Prayer?" Azrael shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure." Seeing Dan's puzzled look, she chuckled. "I don't have all the answers, no. I'm actually kind of low on the list of favored offspring. Dad doesn't interfere an awful lot; you guys have your free will and all. Josh likes the occasional miracle, though. Hey, sorry to spring that on you," she added, her expression sincere and a little sheepish. "I enjoy Father Joe's prayers, and I didn't want to miss out. Not sure if you're a believer or not."

"Well, now I kind of have to be, don't I?" Dan queried, his expression wry. Tentatively, he added, "He asked for angels to watch over you."

Azrael nodded, making a face. "I'm sure they are. And, seriously, you need to do better with your reactions. Father Joe didn't mean it quite as literally as we do."

Sounding irritated, Dan said, "I didn't exactly ask for this knowledge, and I'm still getting used to it all. Give me a break."

Azrael inclined her head. "Okay, true. Sorry. I'd just rather not spread the information any more."

Dan was silent for a moment, taking it all in as he looked around the crowd. "But don't you want to tell them? I mean, you're lying to all these people," he accused, though his voice was quiet.

Azrael smiled faintly. "I never said I was like them," she countered. She could see from Dan's frown that this wasn't an acceptable response and added seriously, "Despite all of Lucifer's comments about who he is, we're not usually supposed to tell. I feel a little guilty not being entirely honest, but often you humans can't handle proof of the divine."

"But I can?" Dan protested. "My _little girl_ can? She's just a child."

"She's handled it better than anyone," Azrael replied sharply. She took a deep breath, then, obviously reining in her temper. "Don't underestimate her," she added, more gently.

Dan took a sip of his drink; it looked like a soda, and Azrael guessed that he was wishing it contained alcohol. "Why us?" he asked finally, a plea in his voice.

Azrael shook her head. "I wish I knew," she replied, her tone full of regret that she didn't have more answers. "They aren't kidding when they say Dad works in mysterious ways."

Dan studied the ring of condensation left from his drink. "Last night, you said your father wanted me to know. Was… was it because of your mother?"

Azrael could see that Dan was getting tense: the set of his shoulders and his stiff posture made it obvious. "My father would never hurt you," she assured him. "Nor any of my siblings. There are rules."

Dan shook his head, laughing humorlessly. "That's not the most reassuring response you could have given, Rae. And Lucifer punched me, a while back. It hurt. So much for that, huh?"

"Because Lucifer is known for how well he follows the rules?" Azrael suggested, smiling despite herself. Dan inclined his head in wry acknowledgment, and Azrael continued more seriously, "I honestly don't know my father's motivations. Mom thinks he's trying to mess things up with the two of you, but she… well, she does tend to make things about herself."

Dan muttered, "I have noticed that, yes."

Azrael suggested carefully, "They were together, but it was a long time ago, and it wasn't a great relationship for a while even before things ended. And then…"

"She was in Hell," Dan concluded. "Literal Hell."

"Yeah," Azrael agreed. "So maybe she could stand to catch a break. No pressure," she added, obviously sincere. "But maybe give her a chance."

Dan looked away, then asked, in an obvious subject change, "Are angels watching us right now, like the priest said?"

With a quick, exasperated glance skyward, Azrael nodded again. "Probably. Michael's kind of nosy and Gabe is always looking for a joke and Josh likes to keep an eye out. It's probably entertaining for them," she realized, her expression going wry. "It can be a little too much of the same old thing up there, if you don't have something to keep you busy."

"Josh?" Dan echoed. "You said he likes miracles. I don't remember an angel named Josh."

"No, you know him as Jesus," Azrael supplied.

Realization hitting him hard, Dan said slowly, "Trixie mentioned your brother Josh. She said she met him." He stared at Azrael, getting that wide-eyed look.

"Deep breaths," Azrael suggested, and Dan inhaled a gulp of air. "Trixie's met Josh, yes. He's good with kids. Look, I'm sorry about dumping all this on you last night. I really don't like having to enlighten and run, but I don't have any choice in the matter."

"It's okay," Dan replied, the words automatic. He swallowed hard, then said, "Ella said that you're going home."

"To the Silver City," Azrael agreed, her eyes distant.

Dan asked, "That's Heaven?" and Azrael nodded. "That's… really weird to think about. I mean, that it's an actual place. Whenever I thought about it, it was more as a concept than as a place where people - angels - actually live."

"I'd love to tell you it's not all that, but it kind of is," Azrael admitted, with a small smile. "It's beautiful there." Still, her gaze flitted through the crowd before coming back to Dan. "Nice talking with you, Dan. I should…" She gestured back to the party, getting to her feet.

"Rae?" Azrael turned back to him, anticipating questions, but Dan surprised her by saying, "There's a lot going on here that I don't know anything about, but I know my daughter really cares about you. So be careful."

Azrael nodded seriously. "I will. Thanks, Dan." She got a few steps away, and then turned back to him. "Oh! I almost forgot. Get bubblegum toothpaste for Trixie."

Looking confused, Dan asked, "Was that a message from your father?"

Azrael shook her head. "I'll bet Dad is a fan of good oral hygiene in general, but he doesn't care what flavor toothpaste you use. Free will, remember?" She smiled and headed back to the party.

Dan stared after her. "What a weird family," he muttered.

Linda sat down in the chair that Azrael had vacated. "How're you holding up, Dan?" She offered him a glass of amber liquid, which he took with obvious gratitude.

"This is…" Dan shook his head and took a quick drink. "I don't even know. How do you deal with all this?"

Linda smiled. "First, you remember that all these… beings haven't really changed," she replied gently. "They're still the same folks you know. You just know a little more about them." Dan nodded, and Linda continued, "Then you take a breath." Dan did, and Linda said, "Let it out. Now another."

"I can do that," Dan said slowly. "I've been doing that since I was little."

Linda clinked Dan's glass with her own and they watched the party in silence, content for the moment just to breathe.

* * *

Leaning lightly against the edge of the bar, Azrael let the sounds of the party wash over her, her eyes closing. It was hard to comprehend that she didn't know if - no, when, _when_ she was going to see these people again. She listened to the thrum of conversations and took a deep, quivering breath.

"Are you all right, Rae?"

Azrael opened her eyes to see Margaret watching her with gentle concern. Another of the teachers from the music school stood nearby, though far enough for privacy.

"Yes," Azrael replied, doing her best to push aside her emotions. "Thanks for coming."

Margaret smiled, reaching to rest a hand on Azrael's arm. "We'll have to go soon, unfortunately, as I have a makeup lesson to teach. I'm sorry to hear that you're leaving us. You have a piano back home, yes?" Azrael nodded, and Margaret continued, "I know I don't have to tell you to practice. But I wanted to ask if you would play me one more song before I go." Seeing Azrael's glance toward the crowd, Margaret added, "Such a lovely piano your brother has."

Azrael smiled. "He does have good taste in pianos," she agreed. She resisted the urge to mention the second piano upstairs, and privately resolved to make an anonymous donation to the music school. It had been a haven to her, after all.

"So will you show me how it sounds?" Margaret prompted. As Azrael hesitated, she added, "Maybe another duet with your brother?"

"If he'll agree," Azrael said finally, and Margaret smiled. The two made their way to where Lucifer sat with Chloe, slowly in deference to Margaret's pace with her cane; the second music teacher followed several steps behind.

"There's the guest of honor," Lucifer greeted, though his smile seemed pulled on and lacked his usual spirit.

Azrael hesitated at her brother's expression, and Margaret jumped in to say, "I was trying to convince your sister to play for us, so I can hear your lovely piano. She seems a little shy about performing in front of everyone, so I thought the two of you might play another duet."

"Will you threaten me with your cane again if I say no?" Lucifer quipped, and Chloe gave the tiny piano teacher a second, assessing look. Still, Lucifer didn't wait for Margaret's response, instead turning to Azrael and asking, "Is that what you want?"

Azrael nodded, though her manner was tentative. "If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to play together one… one more time." She'd almost said one _last_ time, and from the sharp look Lucifer gave her, he'd caught the substitution. "Please, brother," Azrael added softly.

Lucifer studied his sister for a long moment, and then nodded, with another of those sad smiles. "If you'll excuse me, Detective? Won't be a moment."

Chloe nodded, then watched silently as the siblings moved toward the piano, followed at some distance by the music teachers.

She wasn't alone in the booth for long, though; Trixie slid next to her, immediately snuggling in close.

"Hey, monkey, how are you doing?" Chloe greeted, hugging the little girl even closer.

Trixie sighed, not answering immediately. "I don't want her to go," she said finally.

Chloe exhaled a soft sigh of her own, her heart breaking for her daughter. "I know, baby. I don't think any of us wants her to go."

"Why is her dad making her come home?" Trixie asked, twisting to peer up at her mother, eyes already shining with unshed tears.

Chloe took a moment to try and find the right words. Trixie had asked the same question that morning, though then it had been louder, anguished. Then, Chloe had stumbled over her words in an attempt to find something, anything to help her daughter find peace. She had known, even then, that it wouldn't be easy.

"He needs Rae to help him," Chloe said finally.

Trixie's expression darkened, her brows lowering in a way that had presaged a tantrum when she was much smaller; clearly, this wasn't a good enough reason for her friend to leave. Chloe took a deep breath, preparing to deal with whatever was about to happen, but then Lucifer and Azrael reached the piano, and Trixie caught sight of them. She settled against Chloe, preparing to watch; it was only because Chloe was listening so closely that she heard her daughter whisper, "Then I don't like Rae's dad."

Chloe couldn't exactly blame Trixie. She didn't say anything, but only drew her little girl closer, her attention turning to the piano as well.

* * *

Lucifer let Azrael sit first, taking the higher range, and then settled in next to her. Though there was no announcement of the impending music and the lighting didn't change, the people nearest to the piano quieted, noticing the pair.

Without consulting Azrael, Lucifer began to play. He sent a quick glance at his sister, seeing her surprised smile before the music took his focus. And then she joined in at the right moment, the high notes and the low interweaving just so. He closed his eyes, losing himself in the song.

Seated near the piano, Margaret frowned thoughtfully as the music began. While the piece held echoes of Beethoven's boldness during his Heroic Period, she couldn't place it. The composer was… Margaret didn't know, and that surprised her. She sent a look of inquiry to her fellow teacher, who shrugged, obviously baffled as well. After a few moments, when the thundering chords of the opening transitioned into something intricate and heartbreakingly sad, she stopped trying to identify the piece and closed her eyes, the better to listen.

They hadn't played this piece in millenia, but Lucifer still remembered every chord; so, it seemed, did Azrael, for she didn't miss a note. Lucifer felt his lips curving in a smile as he neared the end of the piece.

He didn't want it to end, but eventually it did. All conversation had ceased while they played; everyone listened with rapt attention. The crowd gave the song its due: a moment of silence before the applause began.

Azrael heard none of it, though, as her brother had her full attention. "Good choice," she said, her eyes shining.

Lucifer didn't reply immediately, his hands still on the keyboard, his gaze distant. "I'm glad you remembered it," he said finally. "Would have been awkward if you'd just sat there."

"How could I forget that of all songs?" Azrael replied, resting a hand on her brother's shoulder. Before she could say anything more, though, Margaret appeared at their side.

"That was lovely," the woman said, obviously moved by the music. "But who wrote that piece? What was it?"

Lucifer gave his sister the tiniest of headshakes, and she smiled at Margaret. "I'm glad you liked it," she replied. "It's very old. I'm not sure that it has a name."

Margaret looked rather disappointed, but leaned down to hug first Azrael and then a rather startled Lucifer. "Thank you for sharing it with us."

Lucifer nodded, straightening his jacket. "You're very welcome."

As if the end of the song had been a sign, the party started to break up at that point. People gradually departed, until the only ones who remained were those who knew Azrael's actual destination that evening.

"Let's move this upstairs," Lucifer suggested. "Bit cozier."

The group filed into the elevator, Trixie reaching for Azrael's hand once more. They made the ride in silence, and once they arrived, after everyone was settled, the tone of the gathering remained a little subdued.

Everybody knew that the wait was nearly over, that Azrael would soon make her departure.

* * *

 **Author's note: I think that the story could end with the next chapter, which wraps up the party and ends with Azrael's departure. I also have part of a chapter written with her arrival in the Silver City which I can finish, if folks are interested. Please let me know! Either way, we are very near the end.**


	57. Chapter 57

**Author's note:** **Thanks for the response to the previous chapter! I will be writing one more chapter, with Azrael's return to the Silver City. I'm hoping it won't take long, but Dad is challenging to write and I have some other obligations.**

* * *

Azrael, needing to get away from the mournful looks she was receiving, ducked into the bathroom. When the door clicked shut behind her, she exhaled a soft sigh and stood before the sink. Turning the cold water tap on full force, she let the water pool in her cupped hands before splashing it on her face.

The chill helped a little, and she repeated the process, then turned off the water and reached blindly for a towel. Enjoying the feel of the plush cloth, she took her time about drying her face, breathing deeply.

Azrael hung up the towel and studied herself in the mirror, automatically fixing her hair. She had almost gotten used to seeing this face instead of her own, and part of her would miss…

Well, no. She wouldn't miss this body, with its youth and its frailty. But what this body represented, the lack of responsibility, that she would miss. She had been the Angel of Death for so long that she had forgotten the freedom of those years before her father had given her that job.

She pulled her hair away from her face and took a deep breath. As she prepared to face the group once more, a soft knock sounded.

"Who is it?"

"It's Linda. Is everything all right?"

Azrael hesitated. How could she even answer that question? "Yes."

"Can I come in?"

Azrael opened the door, then retreated to lean against the sink once more.

Linda entered the room, easing the door closed behind her. "I don't want to intrude if you're actually _using_ the bathroom, but I saw your face before you went in here and thought, maybe not."

"Maybe not," Azrael agreed, with a small smile. "I was about to go back out, but, yeah, it got to be a little much."

Linda glanced around the room and, shaking her head, perched on the toilet. "I think this bathroom is nicer than my office." She considered Azrael rather speculatively, then, as if assessing her mood.

Azrael chuckled quietly, shaking her head. "Lucifer doesn't do anything by halves, including bathrooms." Exhaling a small sigh as she noted Linda's look, she said, "Look, I appreciate you coming in here, but I'm okay with what's happening tonight. I'm ready. Mostly. I just needed a minute." She made a wry face. "So I ended up hiding in the bathroom."

"There's no shame in needing a break sometimes, even from people you care about," Linda observed.

Azrael smiled faintly. "Considering my job, I guess it's not a surprise that crowds can be a little overwhelming. I loved seeing everyone," she hastened to add, "And I'm so glad that Luci and Ella did that. But it's a little easier now that most of the people left."

"The Angel of Death is an introvert," Linda mused. "That makes sense, I suppose." She looked over to Azrael with a smile. "It's nice that at least some of this makes sense."

"Glad we haven't completely shattered your worldview," Azrael said lightly.

Linda chuckled, a low, throaty sound. "Oh, I definitely wouldn't say that. It got smashed to pieces the day your brother showed me his other face. But we're not talking about me." She considered Azrael once more, then observed, "Sometimes waiting for something can be harder than the actual thing."

"Yes," Azrael agreed, her voice quiet but fervent. "I asked for more time and I'm grateful to my father for granting my request, but this has been a little tough. Not that what comes next is going to be easy, but I almost want to just go. Rip off the Band Aid."

"What does come next?" Linda queried, perhaps curious, perhaps wanting to draw Azrael out.

Azrael admitted, "I'm not sure. I go back. I face my father." She took a deep breath, balling her hands into fists. They were shaking; she knew that.

"And that scares you?" Linda prompted. Azrael gave her long look, brows lifting, and Linda acknowledged, "I can understand that."

"He said things would be different when I came back, I think." Azrael sighed, repeating, "I think. It was after I fell, and I'd hit my head. That whole day is kind of a blur, which is probably for the best. But if it's going to be different, well, I don't do well with change."

Linda looked Azrael up and down. "Then coming here to Earth must have been challenging."

Chuckling, Azrael nodded. "I was hung over on your couch, that first morning. So yes. I mean, getting my body back, and my powers, that will be good. But one of my brothers has been doing my job all this time, and I'm sure he didn't do it right."

"And you want your job back?" Linda asked, not commenting on Azrael's brother's job skills.

Azrael didn't answer right away. "I'm just not sure how to be anything else," she said finally. Making a face, she said, "There's no point in getting myself tied up in knots over it. I'll find out what's happening soon enough, if I can get through the rest of this party. I just feel like everything I say now has to be so profound."

Linda smiled. "It doesn't, though. You don't even have to say anything. We're just glad to have a little more time with you before you have to leave."

Azrael nodded, though she looked unconvinced. Fiddling with the towel, the better to avoid eye contact, she said, "They're all looking at me like I'm going to die; well, almost all of them are."

"We know you're not going to die," Linda reassured. "You just won't be here. And knowing that, and the uncertainty of it all, can be difficult. They're trying."

"Not dead," Azrael mused. "Just Death. Maybe." Whimsically, she intoned, "Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds."

Brows lifting, Linda said, "Oppenheimer said that, about the bomb. Is there something you're trying to say?"

Azrael shook her head. "Don't worry. I'm not predicting the end of the world just yet. I just like the quote; I've got it on a cross-stitch at my place back East. Oppenheimer was actually quoting the Bhagavad-Gita, though, which was definitely not about bombs."

After a moment's pause for that _just yet_ , Linda queried, with a laugh, "Where would you even get a cross-stitch like that?"

"Etsy, of course," Azrael replied, amused. "What, you think I have time to sit around and do cross-stitch?"

Shaking her head, Linda agreed, "Of course not." She got to her feet and came to stand next to the angel. "I'm glad you came to stay with Lucifer, Rae. It's been good for him, having you here." Azrael smiled, and Linda continued, "And I particularly appreciate that other people know who you all really are now. Having people to talk to, it really helps."

Azrael smiled. "I'm glad. You of all people should have someone to talk to, as much as you've helped my family." She took a deep breath, then stepped away from the sink. "I think I'm ready to go back out there. Thanks, Linda."

"Any time, Rae." Linda caught at Azrael's arms as she passed. "You've touched a lot of lives. All those people down there, showing up at a moment's notice, they proved that."

Azrael made a sound that wasn't quite a chuckle, her throat tightening with a sharp ache at the thought of leaving her friends and family. Ella had hugged her at least four times in the past hour. Azrael almost couldn't bear to look at Trixie, as the little girl's forlorn expression almost broke her heart. Leaving her mother after they'd had such a short time together brought back all the times she'd missed her mother's presence when she was younger.

And she hadn't managed to find time alone with Lucifer, though, if she was being honest with herself, she was dreading that particular farewell the most.

"Thanks, Linda," Azrael repeated softly, before she moved to the main area of the penthouse. Spying the only one who hadn't been giving her mournful looks standing alone at the bar, Azrael came to a halt next to her.

"I'm glad to catch you," she said. "I have a favor to ask."

"Favors are Lucifer's thing," Maze replied promptly.

Azrael's eyes slid to the demon, then found her brother, who was speaking with Amenadiel. "Well, he can't handle those one, so I hope you'll say yes anyway."

Maze followed the direction of Azrael's gaze, then guessed, "It's about Lucifer."

Azrael nodded, that ache closing her throat for a moment. "Will you keep an eye on him?" This time, she met the demon's gaze, her expression pleading. "You know he can be -"

"Reckless and self-destructive?" Maze suggested. Azrael nodded, and Maze said, "I can't promise he won't do something stupid, but I'll haul him back from the edge if he needs it. I always do."

Azrael smiled, relieved. "Thank you. They, even the humans who know, I'm not sure if they can really understand how it is to live life with an eternity behind you, and another yet to come."

With a shrug, Maze agreed, "Probably not. But that's why he likes being around them." She smiled suddenly, a certain predatory gleam in her eyes. "I'm doing you a favor."

"Ye-es," Azrael agreed, trying not to be too obvious about edging away from the demon, though she assumed that Maze saw anyway.

Maze smirked. Of course she saw. "So you owe me a favor in return. That's how it works, you know."

"Maybe I should rephrase my request," Azrael suggested.

"Oh, no," Maze drawled, looking disconcertingly pleased. "You said _favor_ and I said I'd do it. You owe me."

Azrael sighed. "Fine. What do you want?"

With a grin that displayed a little too much in the way of teeth for Azrael's comfort, Maze asked, "You think I'm calling it in now? No way, Fun Size. I'm going to enjoy holding this over your head."

Azrael hesitated, then pointed out, "I hate to mention it, but my time here is down to minutes. While I'm sure you could pack a lot of torment into those minutes, holding a favor over my head doesn't seem to be that bad."

"Oh, you have no idea what I could do with a few minutes," Maze drawled, smirking when Azrael's eyes widened. "But since you owe me," the demon added, with a smug smile, "You have to come back."

Azrael pursed her lips in thought, then ventured, "It's not entirely my choice."

Maze shook her head. "That's not good enough, TD. You owe me, so you have to come back. I always get what's owed to me, and you do _not_ want me storming Heaven to get my favor."

"No," Azrael agreed, though the mental image elicited a quick, reflective smile. "I'll do my best," she agreed, her smile fading as she thought about not only this favor, but also the one owed to her brother.

Maze, after an assessing look at Azrael, put a decanter and a glass before her. Seeing Azrael hesitate, she said, "Last chance, Fun Size. You know they don't have _this_ in Heaven."

With a small shrug of agreement, Azrael poured herself a drink, though she only sipped it. Much as she'd love to disappear into a haze of alcohol, she knew that would be a poor choice, all things considered.

"There are a lot of things they don't have in Heaven," Maze said pointedly. Azrael regarded her, brows lifting, and the demon added, "No coffee there. No booze. No butts to look at; those stupid robes hide everything fun."

"Mazikeen," Azrael protested.

"No mommy in the Silver City," Maze continued relentlessly, and Azrael sank to a seat. "No Lucifer. None of these humans you like so much, not until _you take them there_."

Azrael inhaled a sharp breath as realization struck. She tossed back her drink and gripped the glass, her eyes closing at the thought of seeing each of her friends at the moment of their death.

"Still want to be the Angel of Death?" The demon wasn't even taunting now, but her words twisted nonetheless.

"Hell's finest torturer," Azrael whispered. "Trixie's not the only one who doesn't need knives. But it's not my choice, Mazikeen."

"Isn't it?" Maze gave Azrael a long look, then turned her back on the angel, stalking to Linda's side.

Azrael, trying to make her expression less grim, moved to sit next to Trixie on the couch. After a moment, Charlotte moved to her other side. Leaning so she could see past Azrael, Charlotte nodded to Trixie. "Hello, orchid mantis."

Trixie smiled. "Hi, Rae's mom."

Azrael found that she couldn't say anything at all.

* * *

When the appointed time arrived and a whoosh of air from the balcony signaled a celestial arrival, Azrael was not the only one relieved to see that the sibling come to collect her was Josh.

"Well." Azrael cleared her throat and tried again. "Guess it's time to go." She made as if to rise, but Trixie's hand tightened on her own.

"Don't go, Rae," Trixie whispered urgently, her eyes on Josh as he approached.

"Trixie, babe." Chloe started forward, but Josh smiled and shook his head as he passed her. Chloe, frowning a little, subsided.

Josh reached the couch and offered Charlotte a respectful nod. "Ma'am," he greeted her.

Charlotte stiffened, but inclined her head in reply, not deigning to answer verbally.

Josh hunkered down before Trixie. "Rae needs to leave now," he said simply. "Our father wants her to come home. But it's going to be okay."

Trixie regarded Josh with profound skepticism. "Are you like Lucifer?"

Josh lifted his gaze to meet Lucifer's and the half-brothers shared a wry smile that this child would compare them, of all their father's children.

"In what way?" Josh queried. He turned his full attention to the little girl, his expression serious.

Trixie cast a glance over her shoulder at Lucifer. "He never lies," she replied, turning her gaze back to Josh. "If he told me it was okay, I'd know he wasn't just saying it because I'm a kid. Kids aren't stupid," she added firmly.

"They aren't," Josh agreed. "And I don't lie, either. Lucifer and I are alike in that way." He looked at Azrael, then turned back to Trixie before he rested his palm lightly on their joined hands. "It's going to be okay."

Trixie studied Josh for a long moment, her dark eyes intent, and then nodded. "It better be," she informed him, her small face very serious. After one final look at Josh, she turned to Azrael, hugging the angel tightly. "Bye, Rae," she said, obviously struggling not to cry.

"Goodbye, Trixie," Azrael murmured into Trixie's hair. Her wings unfurled, curling around the little girl and Trixie ran her fingers along one wing.

Trixie clung to her friend for long enough that Chloe started forward, but finally the little girl moved away and flung herself into her mother's arms with a wail of "It's not fair!"

"That was some vague comfort you gave the child," Lucifer observed dryly to his half-brother, as Azrael tucked away her wings and began to make her farewells.

Josh, his dark eyes full of compassion, smiled in return. "But it was true nonetheless." He watched Azrael hug first Charlotte and then Ella before he added, "Dad knows what he's doing, Lucifer."

"You say that _now_?" Lucifer protested, moving toward Josh with obvious intent. "You self-righteous, holier-than-thou little -"

"Hey, Josh, give us a minute?" Azrael deftly inserted herself between her brothers, and Josh, lifting his hands in a gesture of surrender, stepped further into the penthouse, ending up next to a gobsmacked Dan.

Maze, seeing an opportunity for fun, said, "Jesus, meet Dan. Dan, Jesus."

"Call me Josh," that individual suggested, offering a hand.

"Holy shit," Dan breathed as he shook Josh's hand. "I mean, sorry…"

Gaze sharpening, Maze asked Josh, "So is it _your_ shit they're always talking about?"

Josh, after a puzzled look, shrugged. "Could be. You should see what they did with my old towel."

* * *

"Right," Lucifer murmured, looking after Josh. "Wouldn't do to smack him in the nose, would it?"

Azrael shrugged. "Sometimes a little violence is a good thing, but maybe not just now."

Lucifer smiled. "That's Maze's influence." Azrael inclined her head in rueful acknowledgment, and Lucifer added, too lightly, "I guess that's it, then. Call him back. Time to go; off you pop."

Azrael shook her head. "You've been avoiding me all night. You're not getting off that easily." Seeing Lucifer grin at her phrasing, she lifted her eyes skyward. "That's something I'm not going to miss: the way you make everything about… you know."

"Sex, yes," Lucifer murmured, amused.

Azrael continued as if he hadn't said anything, "Or how you can get away with saying anything because of that ridiculous accent. Or -" And suddenly she choked back a sob, twisting so that her back was to the rest of the room.

Lucifer steered her out to the balcony until she was out of sight of the others. "It'll be all right," he murmured.

After inhaling a shaky breath, Azrael said, "You said that to me my first night here; do you remember?" Lucifer nodded, and Azrael continued, trying to smile but not entirely succeeding, "I was terrified out of my mind, and you made me feel better."

"With copious amounts of alcohol, I seem to recall," Lucifer quipped, and Azrael made a wry face, the picture of a small, annoyed sister.

"Will you please stop making jokes?" she asked, wiping at her eyes with the heel of one hand and then murmuring her thanks as Lucifer fished a handkerchief from a pocket and offered it to her. "I'm trying to get all this out before Josh says it's time to go."

"You don't have to say it," Lucifer reassured her.

"I _do_ ," Azrael replied, with such vehemence that her brother's eyebrows arched in surprise. "People don't tell you thank you enough; not for the important things. So thank you, brother. Thank you for letting me stay here when you thought Dad was using me to mess with you. Thank you for coming to that ridiculous play, and for not taking off my head over showing Chloe my wings. Thank you for finding me when I took off; I didn't realize it, but I needed you. Thank you for letting move out of the penthouse, even though neither of us wanted that." She wiped at her eyes, obviously frustrated with her tears, but needing to continue nonetheless. "Thank you for putting up with me, despite this stupid body and how I can't stop crying right now. Thank you for making me smile. Thank you for showing me how a brother should be, which is hard enough to find in our messed-up family." Unable to speak, she covered her face with her hands, giving in to her tears at last.

Lucifer, his expression nearly blank with shock, sat on a nearby chair and pulled Azrael close; she threw her arms around his neck, burrowing her head against his shoulder. "Well," he replied softly. "You are most welcome. It's been good to have you here, little sister, despite our father's machinations. It reminded me -" Lucifer cut off his words, not wanting to say that it reminded him of pleasanter times, not actually wanting to remember those times. Instead, he just said, his voice low, "I'll miss you."

And for a few minutes, all was quiet, with the exception of Azrael's ragged breathing. Finally, though, she eased back, with a faint grimace for Lucifer's jacket. "Sorry," she murmured.

"Think nothing of it," Lucifer replied, proving his love for his sister. "Should we go back?" he offered tentatively. "I would hate for dear old Dad to send someone else, if Yeshua isn't returning you quickly enough."

"I don't want to go," Azrael admitted, her breath catching on the last word. "But I have to. I know I do. And, Luci, I don't know what's going to happen with Dad, but I promise -"

"No," Lucifer interrupted, his voice firm. "No promises, little sister. Nothing you might not be able to keep. I don't want you to have to break your word for me."

Azrael looked for a moment like she might argue, but then the reality of her situation struck her again and she nodded, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "If I broke my word for anyone, it'd be you. But I'll try, how about that? I'll try to come back soon."

"Just remember," Lucifer replied quietly, as he looked toward where the others waited, " _Soon_ means something different to them."

Nodding, Azrael agreed, "I'll keep that in mind. Besides," she added, with a weak smile, "There's still that favor I owe you, and I'm in debt to Mazikeen, too."

Lucifer lifted his hand to his breast pocket, though he asked, "My demon is doling out favors now as well?"

"Just the one, as far as I know," Azrael hastened to reply. "Possibly a tactical error on my part." She shook her head, though she didn't look as concerned as she probably should have been.

"Most definitely," Lucifer agreed. "Who knows what she'll ask of you?"

Azrael hesitated, then said, her reluctance obvious, "We should probably go back."

"Yes," Lucifer agreed, getting to his feet. He gestured for Azrael to precede him, and she did.

All eyes turned to the siblings as they returned. "Ready?" Josh asked Azrael, as he approached the pair.

Azrael nodded. "As I'll ever be," she replied. She offered the group an awkward wave and a small smile. "Thanks, everyone," she said, then turned to follow Josh toward the balcony.

Trixie called, "Rae, wait!" The angel paused, and Trixie hurried to her side. "Here," the little girl said, shoving something soft into Azrael's hands. "Maze said you like it, and it'll keep you company. And Maze said to give you this, too," she added, as a hard, metallic object ended up in Azrael's hands as well.

Before Azrael could reply, Trixie dashed back to her mother, hiding her face against Chloe's side. Azrael looked down to see the stuffed monkey that had been her sleeping companion that early morning on Chloe's couch. The second object earned Maze a startled look. Though it was the same size as the knife she had lost at Chloe and Maze's apartment, this blade held a slight curve, and had the distinct feel of demon-forged weaponry.

Maze met her gaze and then lifted her shoulders in a small shrug before turning away.

"Thanks, Trixie," Azrael called. More quietly, she added, "Thank you, Mazikeen." Turning back toward Josh, she nodded slightly, her hands curling around the combined weight of the toy and the knife. "Okay." She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Let's go."

They stepped to the balcony, and a soft whoosh signaled their departure.

Lucifer moved to the entrance to the balcony. He knew they were gone; of course he did, but he had to check.

The balcony was empty. He sighed very quietly, his eyes closing.

After what must have been a few minutes, a small sound made Lucifer open his eyes. Trixie stood next to him; though he stiffened in preparation for an assault, she merely looked up at him, her expression woeful.

"Will she come back?" Trixie asked. "Mommy said she thinks so, but I know you'll tell the truth."

Lucifer took a deep breath, regretting for once his refusal to lie. "I don't know, child," he said finally. "And even if she does, it won't be the same. She'll be quite busy, you know."

Trixie nodded solemnly, then extended her hand toward the Devil.

Maybe it was the fact that she offered her hand, rather than grabbing his. Maybe it was that he'd recently heard Chloe tell her offspring to wash her hands, so they stood a reasonable chance of being clean. It was, Lucifer decided firmly, definitely not the tears that stood in the child's eyes that motivated him to take her hand and draw her a little closer, with an awkwardly murmured, "There, now."

Trixie didn't cling to him for once, her small fingers gently curling around his hand, and Lucifer asked her, "Shall we go look at the stars?"

Trixie nodded, and the pair headed out to the balcony.

Lucifer, glancing over his shoulder, caught Chloe smiling as she watched them and offered a sheepish smile in response.

She was the only one watching, Lucifer noticed. Dan and Charlotte were involved in what looked like an awkward conversation at the bar. Ella had, from the gestures she was making, had involved Maze in a conversation about bat'leths; the demon didn't seem to be paying much attention. Amenadiel and Linda, seated on the couch, chatted convivially over one of Lucifer's books; sadly, not one of the obscene ones.

They all accepted him, he realized: not as Lucifer Morningstar, playboy club owner, but as Lucifer, fallen angel, Devil.

Lucifer would not be grateful to his father for this. He would _not_.

But he could, he decided, be grateful to his sister.


	58. Chapter 58

**Author's note:** **Thank you for your patience! This was a tough chapter to write, in part because I didn't want it to end. I hope you like it. The thoughts that Dad sends to Azrael are in bold.**

* * *

By the time they reached the gates, Azrael had gone quiet. Why, after all the time in this body, did she suddenly feel so small?

"Ready?" Josh asked, and she nodded, nerves twisting her guts. She didn't say anything; she knew her words would come out faint and weak.

Azrael stood before the gates for long enough that Peter, eyeing the stuffed monkey and the knife that she still held, started to look uneasy. She smiled at him, but that only seemed to make it worse.

Josh clasped his former disciple's shoulder and spoke quietly to him; Peter, nodding, offered Azrael a smile and slipped away.

"Peter, leaving the gates?" Azrael asked, brows lifting.

"I'm pinch-hitting," Josh replied, with a shrug. "Thought you might prefer less of an audience."

Azrael nodded. "I… yes. Thank you." She took a deep breath and pushed the gates.

They opened at her touch, as they always had: one hurdle crossed. She exhaled a soft, relieved breath, then flicked a glance over her shoulder at Josh, who smiled.

"Take your time," he reassured.

So she did. Azrael wasn't sure how long it took her to take that first step into the Silver City, but it eventually happened.

She had expected… well, that she would be restored as soon as she stepped through the gates, but only her clothing changed. Garbed in a smaller version of the black robes that she usually eschewed, she found herself longing for jeans, even skinny fit. And, really, she had liked that red dress; it had reminded her of her mother, for reasons that she hadn't quite understood.

And they weren't even her favorite robes, which of course were the ones that had embroidered skulls on both the robes and the wide-legged pants she wore underneath. Gabriel had given them to her as something of a joke; she always said she wore them ironically, and would never admit to how much pleasure that one small detail brought her.

Azrael saw her father's hand in her clothing change. He always was a fan of the traditional. She, of course, was grimly, bitterly unsurprised. After all, he had changed her body; why not her clothing, too?

"What the hell, Josh?" Azrael protested, indicating her still-small self. "I look ridiculous. This body was not meant to wear robes."

Frowning a little as he cast a worried glance over his shoulder, Josh cautioned, "Language."

"Seriously? I'm still in this body, and you're objecting to my _words_?" Azrael clutched Trixie's toy a little closer, or perhaps it was the knife she clung to. Making an inarticulate noise of frustration, she muttered, "Why did I ever think that this would be easy?"

Josh studied Azrael, his gaze lingering on the toy. "You're acting like a child," he observed, sounding a little puzzled.

With a gesture that encompassed the entire length of her body, Azrael replied dryly, "I am as my father made me." Her voice cracking, she added, "The reason I came back here was to get my body back, my powers. Is he just f–messing with me?"

"Rae, no." Josh stepped closer, resting his hands on Azrael's shoulders. "Of course he isn't. He loves you. He does," he added firmly, seeing Azrael's skeptical look. "He just wants to talk to you first."

Azrael made a wry face. "What, did he think I'd get my body back and take off?" And if he thought that, Azrael reflected, he might not be entirely wrong.

Josh didn't say anything, but only squeezed Azrael's shoulder, his expression compassionate.

"Don't look at me like that," Azrael muttered. Feeling the worst of her black mood ease under Josh's touch, she added, "And don't _do_ that. I want to feel what I feel."

"All right." Josh smiled, though Azrael's relative equanimity remained, and she couldn't find it in herself to regret that. Her brother continued, "Look, it's going to be okay."

Azrael shook her head. "What did you mean by telling Trixie that?" she demanded. "What if it isn't okay? Haven't we already messed with this kid enough? Linda already has plenty of clients, Josh," she concluded, without humor.

Josh's hands tightened on Azrael's shoulders once more, and she looked up to meet his gaze. "Rae, it's going to be okay," he repeated, his voice emphatic, and she felt the depth of his sincerity.

Azrael took a deep breath, unwilling to believe him. "Saying that over and over isn't going to make it true," she said bitterly. "Look, if you can't get specific, which, knowing our father, I'm sure you can't, then please just don't say anything. I can't… I can't get my hopes up."

"Okay, then," Josh replied gently, pulling Azrael close for a hug.

Azrael stiffened for a moment, then relaxed against her brother. "You're just enjoying being taller than me," she accused, and the vibration of his chuckle almost made her smile.

"Come on, let me have this," Josh said, sounding amused.

"Fine," Azrael muttered, but then she felt a gentle tug on her awareness: a summons. Pulling away from Josh, she said, with a sigh, "I have to go. He wants me."

Josh didn't ask who. "Good luck," he replied.

Azrael tucked the stuffed monkey in one pocket and the knife in another, for of course the robes of the Angel of Death had many pockets. Then she unfurled her wings and exhaled a soft sigh, relieved that she wouldn't need to go afoot like a penitent.

Turning back to Josh, she asked, "Do you know what he's going to say?"

Josh shook his head, and Azrael considered her brother, wondering if he would have told her, had he known. Before her trip, her answer would have been an unqualified yes, but now she wasn't so sure.

Shaking her head, she took to the air, singing under her breath, "You could beat the world. You could beat the war. You could talk to God, go banging on his door." She exhaled a soft, amused sound. "Like he'd put up with that."

Azrael didn't dawdle in finding her father, but neither did she rush. She allowed herself to enjoy the beauty of the Silver City, relaxing a little in the familiar surroundings even as she drew closer to where her father's presence felt the strongest.

Landing under the large tree where she had often hidden when she was small, she tried not to make too much of the fact that he had chosen this spot to meet. Was it to put her at ease, or was he claiming this place, somewhere she'd always thought of as _hers_?

She tucked away her wings and immediately felt a tendril of welcome.

 **Daughter** , he greeted her, the feeling of his words appearing in her consciousness, and she braced her shoulders. **Be easy,** he added.

He hadn't chosen a physical form. Azrael wasn't surprised, but felt oddly disappointed.

"Father," she replied, inclining her head, though the tiny part of her brain that wasn't petrified noted her formal greeting and desperately wanted to call him 'dear old Dad,' just to see what he'd do.

The petrified part of her brain politely suggested that she keep her mouth shut, lest she get herself into trouble before she'd even been officially accepted back into the fold.

A breeze pushed Azrael's hair back and straightened her robes, and she tried not to feel like the small children at St. Brennan's whose parents licked a thumb to tidy their faces on the way into church.

 **So you have completed your tasks.**

Tasks. Plural. She had suspected as much.

"I… suppose I have, since I'm here." She considered her words. Not too snarky? She had tried to keep her tone neutral, but the fact that she was still in her mortal body had her on edge.

 **You have spent time with humanity, and with Lucifer your brother.**

Azrael inclined her head, not quite trusting herself to speak.

 **Well, daughter, what have you learned?**

Ah. One of those meetings. Azrael felt a flicker of resentment stiffen her spine. Hadn't her father been paying attention? Did she now have to recap the whole experience? That tiny, inappropriate part of her brain heard Anthony Head intone, "Previously on _Buffy the Vampire Slayer,_ and she struggled, just for a moment, to keep a straight face.

"Everything?" she queried, stalling, and she felt her father's wordless affirmative.

So. Everything.

Azrael took a breath.

She spoke for a long time.

She confessed her own shortcomings easily enough, certain that would please him: the drinking, and the disastrous first evening at Lucifer's that resulted, drew a flicker of amused exasperation and the sense that she should have known better, which she acknowledged. The loss of temper which led her to bloody Amenadiel's nose actually earned her a hint of pride that she had dared to stand up to her eldest brother, though she got the idea that her father preferred words to either fists or headbutts.

Words, Azrael decided, would have been far less satisfying. She chose to keep that thought to herself.

"You should forgive Amenadiel," she ventured. "He's good, Father. You know he is. He wants to please you, but sometimes you can be… hard to find."

There was a flash of acknowledgment, and her father said, **Amenadiel has always judged himself more harshly than I ever would. He'll find his way.**

Azrael started to reply, but then got the decided impression that she should continue with her report, rather than push the issue. She sighed.

She had nothing but good to say of the humans with whom she had spent most of her time. She spoke fondly of Linda's keen insight, Ella's good cheer and deep faith, Chloe's fierce protectiveness, Trixie's steadfast friendship.

"I'd like to talk about Trixie," Azrael said suddenly. She felt the weight of her father's regard and had her back pressed against the tree before she'd realized she had moved. She had forgotten how overwhelming he could be.

The presence eased somewhat; Azrael took a deep breath and stepped away from the tree, brushing bark from her robes.

**What about Trixie? **

Azrael hesitated, then said what she had been suspecting for some time. "Well, she's special, right? And Chloe is, too, for that matter."

 **All humans are special.**

There was a certain finality to his tone, but Azrael persisted. "But they could see my wings, and they shouldn't have been able to do that." Her father didn't reply, and Azrael said, trying to keep her voice even despite her irritation, "Yes, yes, they're all special, but some of them are _more_ special."

 **Because you care about them,** her father replied, and he actually sounded pleased with her. Again. It was a little disconcerting. **You'd lost that, these past millenia.**

Azrael frowned a little. "Why in the world would I want to avoid getting close to the humans?" she muttered, some of that irritation creeping into her tone. She didn't want to think too hard about mortal lifespans. Taking a calming breath, she added more carefully, "And of course I care about them, but I care about Ella, too, and she's not the same." She frowned thoughtfully as the mention of Ella sparked a memory. "Is it a genetic thing? Something Trixie and Chloe share? She sure didn't get whatever it is from Dan," she added, though not without a trace of affection for the man.

 **Child, they're all special,** her father repeated.

Azrael sighed. Dad forbid she get an actual straight answer from her father. She shoved her hands in her pockets, one hand curling around the stuffed monkey, the other gripping the knife. At least one of them, she reflected wryly, was an appropriate comfort object. "Which means you're not going to tell me," she said, keeping her voice light, her tone respectful. Polite. Careful.

Her father's attention sharpened. **What do you have there?**

Azrael pulled out the stuffed monkey, keeping her other hand tucked out of sight. "Trixie gave it to me. Cute, huh?"

There came a hint of exasperation from her father, suggesting that, really, Azrael should know better than to try such things.

Azrael sighed. She did know better. "You know what it is," she replied, frustrated. "Of course you do, but you're still making me tell you." She tucked away the monkey and pulled out the knife, though carefully, neither brandishing nor offering the blade. "Yes, it's Hell-forged, and, yes, Mazikeen gave it to me. As I'm sure you already know."

 **You could use it to harm your siblings.** Her father's tone was implacable.

"But I _wouldn't_ ," Azrael said, not quite an outburst, but close. She took a deep breath, then added, tone mostly joking, "Except maybe Michael. I'd only stab him a little, and only if he _really_ deserved it." No response came from her father and she added, with a sigh, "I carried my Blade for most of my life and never harmed anyone with it. It was a… a symbol."

 **That's not your Blade.** Her father's unyielding tone brought to mind boulders and monoliths. **The consequences are not as great with that knife, so it would be easier to contemplate using it.**

Azrael curled her hand around the knife. "I suppose it would be," she agreed. "But I wouldn't use it against my siblings, not unless I was defending myself."

Azrael suddenly had an image in her mind of the knife-training she had done with Mazikeen. She knew, of course, that her father had put it there. Her jaw tightened and she took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She did been doing that a lot during the conversation, she realized.

"Are you saying that Mazikeen taught me those techniques and then gave me the knife in the hopes that I'd stab one of my siblings?" Azrael queried, with perhaps a touch more amusement than she actually felt. While she didn't necessarily think that Maze would care enough to go to that much effort, she doubted that the demon would be upset to learn that the knife had ended up in an angel, particularly if said angel was Michael. And, really, Maze seemed more likely to act on impulse than to plan, to do the stabbing rather than manipulate someone else to stab.

No. Manipulation was more her father's game.

 **She's a demon. I don't think it's so far-fetched.**

Azrael sighed. She likely would have thought the same, before her enforced trip to LA; her father had possibly not anticipated that her attitude about demons - well, one of them - had changed. Or maybe he had. "Father, in all the years that I carried my Blade, don't you think I would have already picked up knife skills? I never wanted to have to use it, but I wanted to be ready if the time came. I was training with Mazikeen because… it was something to do, to figure out this body." She was not about to admit that she'd enjoyed training with Maze, not to her father. She could barely admit it to herself. Her father didn't reply, and she added, with a hint of exasperation, "And even if she did intend that, it's not like I'm just going to do it. Don't you trust me, Father?"

 **I do.** His response was immediate, and Azrael couldn't help but smile. She quashed that reaction, telling herself not to roll over for a pat on the head.

She deserved more.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice quiet. "That's good to hear." She hesitated, then asked, "My Blade… why did it make my eyes turn black?"

 **You shouldn't have held it while you were in that body. That little demon encouraged you to -**

"Mazikeen," Azrael offered. "Father, it wasn't her fault. She didn't put the Blade there."

 **Mazikeen,** her father agreed, drawing out the name in a way that Azrael did not like. **She tried to kill you. She put a knife to your throat.**

"Actually, she just threatened me," Azrael observed, with a small, reflective smile. "If she'd really wanted me dead, I would have died. She certainly had the opportunity. More than one, in fact."

Suddenly tired of standing, Azrael tucked the knife into her pocket and settled to a seat in seiza at the base of the tree, using two practiced strokes with her right hand to flick the wide legs of her pants out of the way. She folded her hands properly in her lap and inhaled a deep breath, carefully not mentioning that she could have easily defended herself from that knife at her throat if she had been in her usual form.

Well. Maybe not _easily_.

After a moment's thought, Azrael added, "She was doing what she thought was right for Lucifer, and I'm glad. He needs someone to have his back who really understands." She could feel her father's disapproval and added, trying to change the subject, "But my Blade. If… if I had held it more, would it have restored my powers?"

 **No, child.** Her father's voice was gentle again, and Azrael relaxed, despite the niggling little question of how many millenia she would have to exist before her father finally stopped calling her a child.

 **Your eyes just reacted to the presence of your Blade,** her father added. **You've carried it for long enough in your usual form that holding it in your current body caused that reaction. It was a warning, of sorts.**

Azrael nodded, agreeing quietly, "I've carried it for a very long time." She took a moment, then asked something that she had wondered for eons, "Why did you give it to me?"

Her father actually sounded a little puzzled as he replied, **Well, it seemed appropriate that the Angel of Death carry it, all things considered.**

That, Azrael reflected, didn't even come close to answering her question. For a purportedly omniscient entity, he was being awfully dense, though it was no doubt intentional. She decided to try again, to try and make him _see_. "But didn't you think about what it would be like for me to carry it? It didn't exactly make me popular with my siblings, being the bearer of the one thing that could destroy them."

The first millenia after Lucifer's exile had been the worst. Before, as one of the youngest of a very large family, she'd rarely even merited a second glance from many of her older brothers and sisters. Then Lucifer had been cast out, taking away one of the few siblings who had bothered to acknowledge her existence, and she'd been made Angel of Death not long after. Most of her siblings had started actively avoiding her at that point, either because she had earned their father's disapproval or because she carried the Blade. It was only much later, when she hadn't seemed inclined to use the weapon, that many of her siblings had become easy in her presence once more. By then, though, she spent much more time on Earth than in the Silver City.

She'd claimed it was the job, but it was easier on Earth. The humans didn't know, so they didn't judge. That hadn't really worked out for her in the long run, though.

 **Popularity wasn't really my concern,** her father replied, though his voice seemed to hold some regret.

"Of course it wasn't," Azrael agreed quietly.

After a moment, her father said, **And it's all going well now. Even Michael came to speak with me on your behalf while you were with the humans.**

Azrael sighed, not particularly appreciating that point. After all, Michael being relatively civil hardly made up for his past behavior, about which their father had never batted an eye. "Yeah, Michael's great," she agreed, her voice flat. "But going back to my Blade, will it still make my eyes change color?" _Because, really, it would be just the thing to increase that popularity,_ she thought sourly.

 **It will be fine for you to have it again when you have been restored,** her father replied.

Azrael nodded thoughtfully. "So restoring me… that's still the plan, right?" She kept her eyes on her folded hands, despite the fact that her father was, well, everywhere.

Azrael felt a reassuring affirmative from her father, and exhaled a soft, relieved sigh. "Thank you." She didn't ask when, but of course her father knew her question.

 **Soon. When we have finished talking.**

An image of Lucifer flickered in her mind, prompting, and she hesitated. She thought about her brother and the promises she had made to him, then shook her head. She'd had the strength to leave the penthouse on the night Maze had threatened to kill her, something neither she nor Lucifer wanted. She decided that she could be strong again. "No," she whispered.

The air temperature dropped suddenly, and Azrael hugged her robes a little closer, trying to fight back the thought of frost forming on a train window. Whatever else she'd thought of the Harry Potter movies, which she and Ella had binged over the course of a sugar-and-pizza fueled weekend that made her long for leafy greens, the Dementors had unnerved her. It was the mortal body, she had told herself; usually, she certainly wouldn't have been afraid of creatures in black robes, fictional or not.

Azrael repeated, her voice louder but holding a distinct quiver, "No. I'm not going to tell you about him. He wouldn't want me to do that, and I'm trying to be… better." She inhaled sharply, straightened her posture, and said firmly, "You can see whatever you like, Father. You don't need me to be your spy."

Her vision blurred for a moment, and then he was there. Well, no, he'd always been there, but now he had a physical form. He wore the same body he'd had at her house, even down to the battered sweater. The air warmed and he said gently, as he settled to a seat next to her, "Child, I'm just trying to find out what you learned."

Azrael tried very hard not to soften. _Manipulation,_ she reminded herself. "Weren't you watching?" she demanded, her voice cracking. "Didn't you _see_?" Her father didn't answer, just regarding her steadily, and she snapped, "You don't care what I learned. You just care if I follow the rules, and I _do_ , for the most part, even if I don't understand why." She met his gaze, just breathing for a moment, then said, "Here's something I've learned: not to betray my brother. Because that's what it would be if I reported on him to you." She finally lowered her gaze. "Please don't ask it of me, Dad."

He didn't speak right away, and it took all of Azrael's self-control to keep her eyes on her folded hands. When she didn't look at them, they trembled, so she kept watch, and they remained steady.

"Is this a rebellion, daughter?" His voice was very quiet, and held a slight edge. "I've looked the other way regarding your little indiscretions, but are you truly telling me no to my face?"

"I'm not!" Azrael looked up sharply, her eyes wide. Panic gripped her at the thought that she had gone too far, but, still, she didn't regret it. "Father, no. I'm not rebelling. I'm just asking you to reconsider your question. That's all."

Her father held her gaze for a long moment, unblinking, then inclined his head. "I withdraw the question." He hesitated, then added, "Your loyalty to your brother is commendable, if misguided."

Azrael's exhalation was quiet, but audible nonetheless. "Thank you, I think." She eyed her father, then asked tentatively, "You sent me there so that Chloe and everybody would learn the truth about Lucifer, right?"

"In part," her father agreed, and Azrael nearly lost her balance, partly due to the shock of getting a straight answer and also because her legs had gone numb. This body did not appreciate sitting seiza. Her father continued to speak as Azrael, wincing, stretched her legs. "Really, child, do you think he would ever give Chloe the proof that she needed?"

Azrael couldn't help but smile at that. "It would have taken something extreme to get him to do that," she agreed. "Will you tell me why, though? I mean, there wasn't anything wrong with them not knowing."

"Despite your brother's claims of never lying, he wasn't being truly honest with his friends." Seeing Azrael's raised eyebrows, he added, "They never would have believed without proof, which you gave them. And now his friends know the truth, and will be better able to support him in the times to come."

Azrael went hot and then cold, a hard knot settling in her stomach. "What's going to happen to him? Why does he need support, and from humans, so much that you sent me to do things that you said none of us should ever do?" He didn't answer, and Azrael struggled to her feet, one hand grasping the tree for balance. "Father, please!"

"It's not for you to know. But in the end, everything will be all right."

Azrael smacked the tree with the flat of her hand. "I'm so sick of you and Josh giving me that _bullshit_ answer," she exploded.

"Your brother is acting on my instructions." Her father's tone was crisp, but also held a hint of warning. "It's better that you not know."

Azrael closed her eyes for a moment, trying not to be too obvious in her frustration. Her voice tight, she asked, "Will Lucifer be all right, in the end?"

Her father nodded, though his expression cautioned her not to push him. "He will."

Suddenly, Azrael wished that she had asked a more specific question, but she was reasonably certain she wouldn't get any more out of her father on that topic. She could ask Josh, though he probably wouldn't tell her if he knew anything. Taking a measured breath, she asked, looking anywhere but at her father, "How did Raziel do as Angel of Death? Will… will he be continuing in the job?"

She felt a hint of wry amusement from her father. "That task proved to be a little too much for your brother," he admitted. "I had to ask a few of your siblings to assist, and Metatron in particular to help with the record-keeping. The system you developed is… complicated."

Azrael didn't think so, but she'd also had millenia to create it. She took a deep breath and held it, trying to quiet the pounding of her heart. Could her father see how much she was shaking? She tucked her hands in the sleeves of her robes, the picture of devotion. At least the stupid clothing was good for something. "My siblings," she said, careful to keep her voice even. "Will they be continuing in their new roles?"

Her father didn't answer immediately, though a breeze rustled the branches over her head. She tipped her head back, trying to see the hiding spot Lucifer had showed her, and was seized with a brief surge of vertigo. "Some will, yes," he said finally.

Azrael felt oddly numb, though she guessed that some emotion would soon emerge from the fog, be it elation or despair. "I…" She swallowed hard, then asked softly, managing to pull a coherent thought from the whiteout that was her brain. "What will you have me do?"

"You'll be joining them, after you deal with a few things for me." His father's voice was even, smooth, and utterly devoid of anything that would help Azrael figure out what he meant. "When you're finished this task, you can resume your job, but with help. The job is too demanding for just you. You should have time to yourself."

Of course it had taken Raziel's ineptitude to show him that. He couldn't have gotten her help sooner. Still, this seemed like the perfect solution. But there had to be a catch; there always was. "What?" Azrael took a deep breath, her mind whirling, and tried again. "What things?"

"Your brother Remiel could use some help, and they know that you have Lucifer's favor."

"They know… in Hell? You mean the demons?" Azrael groped blindly for her tree, using it to ground herself to reality. "After all that I've done, you're sending me to Hell?" Her father reached for her and Azrael flinched away, lifting a hand in a warding gesture.

"Just to help him get a few things straightened out, child. Then you can come home." Her father turned away, adding, "This isn't a punishment. It's just that your mother's escape has caused some trouble."

Azrael made a sound that could have been a laugh. "How is it not a punishment? It's _Hell_. That's kind of the point, isn't it?"

Her father gave her a long look. "Daughter, do you want damned souls escaping Hell, or demons? They could be drawn to your brother, you know, and to his human friends."

Azrael pictured some of the more vile denizens of Hell, and what they might do. While she knew that Lucifer and Maze would protect their friends, she couldn't take the risk. Closing her eyes briefly, she said, "I assume you'll restore my body and my powers before I go."

"Of course." Her father considered her, adding, "That body is hardly intimidating." He extended his hand, and this time Azrael allowed him to touch her. He rested his hand on the top of her head and she closed her eyes, her throat tightening. It was a blessing, she knew, and her heart pounder at the thought of what could await her in Hell.

Her father lifted his hand and Azrael shifted back to her regular form.

All the little aches of her mortal body vanished - really, how did the humans bear it? - and she felt a surge of strength fill her. She took a breath and loosed her wings, relieved to see that they, too, had returned to their usual size.

Azrael felt… strange. Too large, and a little off-balance, and almost dizzy with strength and power. Had she grown so used to the limitations of her mortal body? Her hand brushed against the knife in her pocket, and she wondered just who would win, if she and Maze sparred.

She stretched and then inspected the dark curls that pooled past her ribs. Her hair was longer than she liked, but that was easily fixed. She braided it back, securing it with a hair tie that she found in another pocket.

Though she'd never been one for vanity, Azrael fought back the sudden desire to find a mirror, just to be sure she was really herself again. Everything felt right, if oddly unfamiliar, but she still wasn't sure what her father might have changed.

Azrael leaned against the tree, letting it support her as it had so many times in the past. She passed a hand across her face and then, straightening, turned back to her father. Now that she had her body back, she could say some of what was on her mind. "You manipulated me, Dad." She spoke slowly, trying to find the right words for thoughts she should have expressed ages ago. "Bad enough that you took away my body and my identity, but then you sent Michael to the church after Chloe and Trixie found out, because you _knew_ I wouldn't leave without telling Lucifer what had happened. And then, after you pissed off Luci at my house, Josh could use that to convince him to take me back, so I could keep at my _tasks_ , as if that's all that mattered."

"Child -" her father began.

"I was _scared_!" It was a cry of protest, of betrayal. "I thought I'd missed out on my one chance to get my body back. You made me choose between that and my brother. How could you do that to me? How could you hurt any of us like this? You pushed Luci away long before exiled him; you drove him to rebel. And Uriel would probably still be alive if he hadn't been so desperate to prove himself to you. You… do you even realize how much you've messed up your children, how damaged we are? Do you even care?"

Her father stepped toward Azrael, then took a closer look at his daughter's expression and stopped. "I do care, daughter," he replied, his voice gentle. "I care very much. But there are things that have been set into motion that you can't understand."

"Ah." Azrael nodded, not looking surprised by the lack of both explanation and apology. "So all our suffering, it's for the greater good, is that it?" Her father nodded, looking a little relieved, though that expression faded when Azrael said flatly, "Fuck the greater good. Sometimes you just need to step up and be a good parent, put your children first for a change."

She turned away, and her father asked, "Where are you going?"

"Hell," Azrael replied, her voice tight with pain. She wouldn't look at her father as she said, "Because even though I know you manipulated me into it, I still don't want my friends to come to harm."

"Azrael." She turned, startled by his use of her name, wryly thinking that it was nice to have proof that he remembered it. Her father regarded her steadily. "When you have finished helping your brother, come home."

Azrael inclined her head. "When I'm done," she agreed coolly, "I'll go home."

She unfurled her wings and took to the air, taking one last flight over the Silver City before she left for Hell.

She knew the way.

She had work to do.

* * *

 **Author's note:** **Thank you so much for reading this! Though I've written others since I started, this series was my first fanfic, and is very dear to my heart. Extra thanks to those of you who have left reviews and faves, and virtual baked goods of your choice if you've left multiple reviews.**

 **I was really nervous about putting this out there, but Lucifer fans are the best. 3**


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